The Wolves in France
by RobFromTheRich
Summary: Ella was an orphan, wandering in the mountains of Tennessee when she met a man with a scar on his neck that would become her brother in arms, and her best friend. These American 'wolves' have a thirst for German blood. Rated T for language, violence, and sexual themes. OC/Donny.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone! This will be my first fanfic in a while. I am well aware how old this fandom is, but this movie is and remains one of my favorites. I am inspired by it! So I'm writing again. This first chapter will be a long one, but here goes! Of couse I don't own any of this, Tarantino does.**

Her lips were chapped from dehydration. A sand crack had started in her mare's hoof, and while it didn't hurt Winnie, Ella had to be careful and ride fewer hours each day to make sure it didn't get worse. She couldn't sleep at night for fear of being ambushed, or attacked by some wild animal. She had ditched her saddle ages ago, since it had gotten so hot. Winnie preferred bareback, Ella could tell, but it was hard on Ella's body. She carried her bedroll on her back, along with the food she had been saving and foraging.

But she had to go on. She had nowhere to go.

Ella's eyes were closed when Winnie shied and snorted. She jerked awake to come face-to-face with what she first thought was a wildman. His hair was long and tangled, and his clothes were torn and hanging loosely on his body. What made her pause was the blood seeping from a wound on his throat, as if someone had tried to hang him - and failed.

He held a finger to his lips, his eyes desperate. For a moment, Ella did nothing, stunned by the sight of this terrified man. He reminded her of her father.

She jumped again, this time from the sound of men crashing through the trees behind her. Shouts and branches breaking broke her stupor, and Ella turned to look at the wildman again. "Hide!"

He hesitated, and she knew he didn't trust her, but what choice did this man have? He must have reached the same conclusion because he shimmied up one of the thick trees and pulled the leaves around him.

Three men skidded to a stop in front of Ella. Winnie snorted again, dancing in place a little. There were way too many people showing up for the mare to be entirely comfortable.

"You lookin for a man with blood on his neck?" she said, drawing their attention away from anything else.

"What d'you care?" the first man grunted, out of breath.

"I don't. I just saw him go that way." She pointed to her left. "Damn near spooked my mare to throwin -"

"Let's go," the man interrupted, not caring one way or the other what else Ella said. They took off again, forgetting about her in their pursuit of the wildman. Ella watched them go until they were out of sight. She looked up into the branches, and it took her a second to find the wildman. At least he had hidden himself well.

The branches crackled as he started to climb. Halfway down, a thin branch broke under him and he fell flat-backed to the ground. Ella sighed and dismounted, tying Winnie's reins at her shoulder. She dug her canteen out of her bedroll, freshly filled from a creek that she had passed not an hour earlier, and knelt next to the wildman.

"Fresh. From the creek. Can you sit up?" Ella put a hand under his shoulder and gave him a push when he tried. He slouched over forward, his breathing harsh. Once she was sure he was upright, she unscrewed the cap and held the canteen to his lips.

"I got it," the man huffed, snatching the canteen.

"You're welcome," Ella snapped back.

"Who're you?" the man sputtered, his voice rough, gasping after a long pull of water.

"Ella. Who're you?" she retorted. "Not like I just saved your life or anything."

"I know." He took another swallow of the water, wincing. Ella stood up and went to Winnie, stroking her face.

"What did you do? They lynch you?"

The man just looked up at her. Ella had meant for it to be a joke, but suddenly she realized they actually had tried to lynch him.

After a moment, he cleared his throat and spoke. "I killed the sheriff's son."

Ella cocked her head at him. "Why?"

The wildman looked up at her and chuckled, which turned into a hacking cough. He stifled it with water. "You're the first person to not run to the authorities. I loved his daughter. We was gonna run off. Her brother beat the shit out of her when he learnt. Broke her to pieces, he did. So I killed the sum'bitch. She heard what I did and sent me a letter sayin' she never wanted to see me again. So I guess I can't go back there no more."

Ella knelt next to him again. "S'okay. I killed the men that killed my Papa. Sometimes, if someone did something really, really, wrong, they deserve to die, too." She took the canteen back and drank some herself. The wildman's accent was strong, and Ella guessed he had grown up here in the mountains.

"How old're you, Ella?"

"Fifteen. From Bell County, Kentucky. Where are we?"

"You ain't got no idea where you are?"

"I've just been riding. I let Winnie take me."

"We're outside Maynardville, Tennessee. You say they killed your Pa. Where's your mama?"

"Dead from fever. Seven years ago. You never gave me your name, wild man."

"Wild man? That's a good one," he chuckled again. "Aldo Raine. Now we better get outta here 'fore they come back and kill us both. Ella what?"

"Ella Demski." Aldo Raine was suspicious of Ella, no doubt. After what had just happened to him, though, she was not surprised.

"You Scandanavian?" Aldo stood up, bent over, his hands on his knees.

"Polish, English, Cherokee." She went back to Winnie and looked for a stump to mount up on. "You okay, Mr. Raine?"

"I'll be fine. Just gotta catch my breath, is all." He stood tall, trying his hardest not to move his neck. The wound was starting to scab. It wasn't deep, but it was rough, the skin torn by the rope they had thrown and tightened around his neck. It would probably scar. "Call me Aldo."

"All right, Aldo then."

"So, Miss Demski, where we headed?"

* * *

They spent a few years traversing the States, covering Tennessee and Kentucky, through Indiana and even into Chicago. Aldo taught Ella to shoot, and she taught him the little bit of French she knew. Aldo made money to add to the savings he had brought with, moonshining in the South, doing odd jobs and playing poker (to which Ella strongly objected) when they headed north, and Ella read every book and newspaper she could get her hands on, becoming familiar with the war and the Nazis that her father had scorned so often with bourbon on his breath. She integrated into the city well, much better than Aldo did. She could turn from Kentucky-born farm girl to Socialite in seconds. She improved her French, to the point of fluency, and began on her German. Aldo had been getting mysterious letters lately, and Ella could assume why without having to ask him. He'd had military history without telling her, and he didn't have to. The second World War was starting to get worse, with Jews and Poles and all other sorts of people were being killed more and more each day. Clearly, the military wanted Aldo back.

One day, in 1942, four years after the two had met in the Tennessee mountains, Aldo came back from the post office to the cafe where Ella frequented in Louisville. She had a newspaper in her hands, as usual, and only looked up when he sat across from her.

"They want me to train in Montana. Special Forces, El. I told them I wasn't going without you."

Ella raised her eyebrows, folding up her newspaper. "Oh, really? And what did they say to that?"

"I just got the last letter. They said we'd better high-tail it out to Montana."

So they did.

* * *

The First Secret Service Force brought them to Helena, where Ella was brought into the military as a Private, on the insistence of Aldo. They must have needed him more than anyone, because after much deliberation, Ella became Private Demski. And it was one of the hardest times of her life. The training worked her nearly to death, jumping out of planes and training to become part of what was to be an elite regiment. They learned everything from parachuting and enemy weapons use to skiing and rock climbing on a strict schedule. She tried her damndest to keep up with the men; Colonel Frederick busted her ass harder than the most, but only because she had that much ground to make up. When the F.S.S.F., or Devil's Brigade, finished its training and made their way through Alaska and eventually prepared to invade Italy in 1943, Ella was made a supporting soldier. That meant she was only to be put into action if some of the Devil's Brigade were hurt, killed, or MIA. She fought tooth and nail against Colonel Frederick, going so far as to start the meeting she called to discuss her optioning with a slap to his face. If she were anyone else, she would have gone straight to a women's correctional facility.

"Goddamit, Colonel, you know damn well I'm better than half the men you got here and I don't give a flying fuck who you are, you can not pull me out now just because I'm a girl!" Ella stood before him in her uniform shirt and swing pants, her hands placed firmly on his desk, knocking over his letter opener on its stand.

The Colonel worked his jaw back and forth, staring angrily at Ella. "Private Demski, you would not be here if it were not for me. We will bring you to Italy, to be sure, but this decision does not come down to me. I should have you arrested for such insubordination. Instead, I understand that you are one of the best soldiers I've got, and you will stay with us as long as I can manage. You are one ruthless bitch, and your time will come in this war. I know it. Keep studying your languages, become fluent in German, and I will see you on the plane." He paused, setting his letter opener upright again. "And if I were you, I would never lay a hand on a superior officer again. Once more will get you taken down."

She had left his office and retreated towards the barracks, frustrated tears forming in her eyes. She would not cry, not in front of her fellow soldiers, but she needed to find Aldo and tell him the situation.

"El?" he called from the flagpole. He had been taking a cigarette break, and Ella was relieved to see both him and his pack of smokes. She stomped over to him and took the offered cigarette, holding it with shaky fingers to her lips as he flicked his lighter open. She took a deep drag.

"I knew this would happen, Aldo. I knew it. I'm a reserve soldier. I'm going to Italy but I won't be doing anything. I'll be sittin' on my ass, waiting for someone to die or the war to end."

"Come on, El. I know the Colonel, and I'm sure he'll find something for you to do. Intelligence, or reconnaissance, or something. You're a smart girl. He knows that."

"Dammit, Aldo, I know, but I wanna kill some fuckin' Nazis! That's what we came here for! One of the last things I heard my father say was how if he was younger, he'd be taking back Poland himself. His parents were still there. They're not now, cause God knows they were useless in the Camps so they're gone, but I'm still here, and I didn't train for 14 hours a day for half a year and work my ass off to be put in a pretty dress and sent to pick up things from the General Store!"

"C'mere," Aldo said, taking her chin in his hand. "You are a damned good soldier, Ella. I know you deserve it. You're tougher than most of these guys here. You see the world different. I'll see to it myself that you make a difference in this war. Got it? You're my girl. I fuckin' promise you."

Half a smile appeared on her face. "You fuckin' better," she mumbled, dropping the butt of her cigarette and grinding it out. "I gotta go pack for Italy."

"Right behind you, girl."

**A/N: A lot of history in this chapter! Look up the FSSF. Some real badasses, those guys! Feedback is appreciated! 3 Alex**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello everyone! Chapter two here. This and chapter one are more history, about how Ella and Aldo got to France. So here it is! Thanks, guys :)**

Ella had to wait another six months. The Devil's Brigade began in Norway, taking out key points and officers vital to the Germans' occupation easily. They moved on to Italy's mountains in November 1943 in an attempt to push the Germans' winter lines back and allow the rest of the Allied army to reach and retake Rome. On the assault on the mountain called La Defensa, they needed everyone they had, so Colonel Frederick finally took Ella off of reserve and put her on the front, next to Aldo. It was December and the snow covered the mountain, but every breath of freezing air that Ella took into her lungs made her heart beat faster, her scope eye sharper, her trigger finger faster. The assault was estimated to take five days, and consisted of the 1st regiment (containing Ella and Aldo) going in directly to the German line, while the 2nd regiment set up machine guns to hold the Germans from gaining ground.

The mountain La Defensa was taken in three hours.

The two regiments were making their way towards the other side of the mountain when their Lieutenant Colonel MacWilliam was shot down. Colonel Frederick halted the assault to call for reinforcements and supplies, and Ella huddled by Aldo to wait.

"I told you, girl. Yer' on the front for our most important assault yet."

She elbowed her best friend. "Shush, you. And thanks. You know, for keeping me going."

"I had to. Yer' the brains, I'm the braun. we need each other."

"Dunno where I'd be without you."

"You too, El."

"Whiskey!" someone called from closer to camp. "Come on, Brigade!"

"Oh, thank the Lord," Ella sighed. "Let's go, before it's gone."

By the end of the second day, the hills behind La Defensa were taken. Ella had come out wounded, but just a little - a bullet had grazed her upper arm, and she hadn't even noticed until they were relieved by the 142nd infantry. There were casualties - of course there were. But they had made a major step forward for the Allies and retaking Italy. The Brigade headed towards their next assignment in Anzio.

Once they had come down from the mountains, they set up camp and had a few days to recuperate. "Sergeant Raine," Colonel Frederick called as Aldo passed with his face freshly shaven - except for his moustache. "Fetch Private Demski and report back to me in my tent."

"Yes, sir," he replied, and double-timed it back to the tent he shared with Ella. He was the only one that was ever allowed to bunk with Ella - mostly because he refused to let any of the other men near her. She was lying on her back, her hands folded over her chest and her legs crossed, eyes closed. Aldo looked down at her for a moment before waking her. Peace showed on her face, a rare thing nowadays. For the past year her brows had been creased, her eyes determined, her lips set in a hard line (though Aldo had watched her grow into one beautiful woman). She was finally relaxed, something Aldo hadn't seen in a long time. And even though she looked relaxed now, when she woke up and was unleashed onto the world to fight, Aldo knew she would thrive on each vindictive kill she made.

"El, the Colonel wants to see us," Aldo murmured, nudging her. She scrunched up her face before stretching and sitting up.

"What for? He tell you?"

"Nope, just told me to fetch you."

Pulling on her wool coat and her boots, Ella stood up. "Well, I doubt it's anything bad. We survived La Defensa, right?"

"From what I heard, he didn't sound mad. Let's get goin'."

They jogged to the Colonel's tent and Aldo rapped on one of the poles that held up the fabric. "Sergeant Raine and Private Demski, sir."

"Come in."

There were two men in the tent, one marked with the four stars of a General. Ella and Aldo snapped to attention, their eyes straight ahead.

"At ease, soldiers. This is General Alexander. He has control of the fate of the First Service, but he has additional plans for you. First of all, however, I would like to present you, Aldo Raine, with the rank of First Lieutenant." He brought one hand from behind his back and revealed a silver stripe pin. Aldo saluted again, and the Colonel saluted back.

"Thank you, sir. It's an honor."

The Colonel nodded. "Secondly, I would like to award you, Ella Demski, with the rank of Corporal. Keep in mind that we usually reserve this rank for those who had been in service more than a year, but in this particular case, we felt a little leniency was necessary." In his other hand was a patch with two gold, pointed stripes.

Ella, her eyes wide, snapped off a salute. "Thank you, sir. Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Permission granted."

"I never expected to rank up. Thank you for keeping faith in me, sir. I don't know where I'd be without the Brigade."

"You've done remarkably well, Demski. You earned it." He saluted back to her. She had seriously never thought she'd be promoted, just because she was a woman. Now 20 years old, she had thought she'd just finish the war as a Private, be told to keep quiet about her position and her role in combat, and go back to the states to bum around some more, maybe take up moonshining with Aldo. Now, she had something that she could call herself. And it was something she wanted with all her heart.

"Now, General Alexander, I believe you wanted to brief them?"

The General stood up and addressed the newly ranked soldiers. "I will speak bluntly to you two. We have decided to use guerilla tactics against the Nazis to help end this war. I heard you two were the best to go to."

A devilish smile crossed Aldo's face. "Yes sir, you heard right."

"Then you are my man. Lieutenant Raine, you will put together a team of eight soldiers, including Corporal Demski and a Sergeant of my choosing as your right hand...men, so to speak." Ella heard his hesitation. No matter - this was probably the first time he had addressed a woman as such. "We need this war to end soon. You'll be coming with me to England, selecting your soldiers from our suggested files, and shipping out to France. I chose you for a reason. You have the special forces training necessary to fit this particular type of warfare, and frankly, you are one sick bastard."

"I want you to kill as many Godforsaken Nazis as you can."

Aldo's chest puffed up. The same smile that Aldo was wearing had appeared on Ella. Aldo looked at her, the once-upon-a-time the girl that had just cocked her head when he had told her he had killed a man, now the woman that had become like his sister, and would gladly kill alongside him. "When do we leave, sir?"

**A/N: So, there it is. I think this'll be updated about every three days or so. Chapter three might be up before then. Thank you for reading! -Alex**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello all! Chapter 3 here! I love the reviews that have come in - very helpful to my writing process. Thank you to those who have read! Here goes!**

After they arrived in England, General Alexander left for London to plan "the end of the Reich" as he called it and Ella and Aldo set up on the American base. They were begrudgingly allowed to bunk together, and Ella fielded strange, hateful looks when she walked by. Some men even spit at her feet - which she could have had them disciplined for. Instead, she stared them down, tapping her carefully sewn-on Corporal's patch and waving them on. Before, she had kept her black hair short, and always up in a ponytail. The General had told her to grow it out, for the purpose of keeping in style if her new regiment sent her to recon in towns. She had taken to curling it, and now it bounced around her face and shoulders. They had measured her for dresses for the same reason, and seamstresses just off the base were making them custom - adding a little extra room for a thigh holster and a blade on her belt. But it was her paradise. Especially when she found the stables.

The braying of the mules and the smell of hay comforted her. The British had stopped using horses on the front line for two years now, but they kept them for hauling jobs and training. Ella had kept Winnie up until she and Aldo left for Helena, and even then she only sold her to someone Aldo had known for years. Winnie was to be only in good hands, and Ella made sure of it. She walked down the concrete hallway, open on one side to the grounds and an arena, stalls on the other side. A whinny from one particular stall stopped her in her tracks. A horse stuck his head out of his window two stalls ahead of Ella, his ears perked.

"Hey, boy," Ella murmured, stepping up to the horse and offering her hand for him to scent. He pushed his nose into her palm, looking for a treat. Winnie had done the same thing, except this horse was at least 8 inches taller than her, tying for the exact same height as Ella _at his shoulder_. His head was almost as long as Ella's torso.

"That's Brutus," said a Cockney-accented voice behind Ella as she stroked the horse's forehead. It was the stablehand, toting a wheelbarrow filled with hay for morning feedings.

"He's gorgeous," replied Ella.

"He is. Fiery, tha' one. Only 5 years old. No lineage for 'im, but we think Percheron and some dressage stud."

Ella glanced into the stall, taking in Brutus' confirmation. His hips were tall and muscled, legs long, but not as thick as a draft horse's. The stablehand was probably right - a mix of the powerful, heavy pulling horses and the agility of a show horse.

"He's broken, I assume?"

"O' course. You want a go?"

"I'd like a try, yes, if you don't mind."

"I'd be willin, but I'd 'ave to know if you've ridden before. He can be a handful."

Ella nodded. Here was a man who cared about the horses in his stable. "Of course. I had a mare in the States before I came over here, since I was a girl. We spent a few weeks riding the Rockies, a lot of it bareback. She was a Paint, not nearly as tall as this one but when my Papa and I broke her, she was nasty herself sometimes."

The stablehand shrugged. "As long as you stay in the saddle is fourth from the door in the tack room. May have to shorten the stirrups a bit, though, Miss." He glanced at her jacket. "Sorry, Corporal." An odd look, and he moved on, throwing hay into the next stall.

Down the hall in the tack room, Ella welcomed the smell of dust and leather. Just like her father's shop in Bell County. Things here on the base kept reminding her of home - and sometimes it was bittersweet. Sometimes, when she couldn't sleep, she wondered what would have happened to her if her father hadn't been killed. Probably working in the leather shop, maybe even married off by now. Once, she had overheard heard her Papa talking to their neighbors when they had come by with a few loaves of bread from their wheat farm.

_"You're doing wonderful with that girl of yours, Andrew."_

_"Thank you, Mrs. Douglas. How's your boy?"_

_"Oh, he's fine. I think soon he'll take a shine to Miss Ella. She's a pretty one."_

_"Just like her mother. I think when he inherits that wheat farm, she'd be a great girl to have around. She's not afraid of the animals, but she does well in the house, too."_

_"I'll say. This place looks beautiful. She has a nice touch, even at twelve."_

From there they had moved on to what the fall rain would be like, but it was clear that before long, Ella was going to be a wife on a wheat farm. When she tried to imagine what that was like, she couldn't. Of course she had thought about a few men that way. She was 20 years old. But she had been given another agenda when Aldo told her that he was heading to Montana.

Ella made her way back to Brutus' stall with the saddle and tacked up, even though she had to reach up and put pressure between his ears so he would bend down for her to put the bridle on. She led Brutus out of his stall, and she could easily see that he was eager for a workout. He snorted at her when they entered the arena and she looked for a mounting block. The horse's coat shone in the rare late-winter sun, a dappled buckskin fading to white socks on his legs and a wide stripe on his face. His mane was short and dark, slightly frizzy, but soft. This would be the first time she'd ridden since she sold Winnie, but she had been waiting for a chance to get back at it. It reminded her of home.

She slid her foot in the stirrup and hoisted herself up, swinging her leg over Brutus' back. It was taller than she had ever been, and when she clucked her tongue to signal a walk, Brutus listened beautifully. He was eager, but he was still well-trained to listen to his rider. War horses' training was not to be taken lightly - if there was a moment of stubbornness, it could kill both horse and rider. First a walk, then a trot, finally a canter - Brutus performed his paces well, save for when he tried to subtly lengthen his stride and turn the canter into a slow gallop. Ella had him turn circles, stop and back up, and even got him to go from a stand-still to a trot, all in the first 15 minutes in the large arena.

"Hey, Corporal Demski!" Aldo was at the other end of the arena, standing next to another man with dark hair, waving her over.

"Let's get 'em, huh, boy?" Ella said into Brutus' ear. She tucked her heels into his sides, going a little harder than when she asked for the canter. Just like she'd hoped, the horse took off, barreling towards the men at an alarming pace. His legs were long, and he covered the distance in seconds before Ella tightened the reins and he skidded to a stop, bouncing his front hooves up once in enjoyment. It was probably things like that bounce that made Brutus a 'handful,' but Ella would take that any day over an animal that couldn't care less.

"Dammit, girl, let you 'round any horse 'n you damn near take my heart outta my chest."

Ella smoothly dismounted. "Sorry, sir!" She stood at attention, looping the reins over her shoulder. No matter how long she and Aldo had known each other, they were still on an Army base and he was still her Commanding Officer.

"Ella, this is Sergeant Donny Donowitz. Sarge, Corporal Ella Demski."

The Sergeant almost stuck his hand awkwardly through the fence of the arena. Ella saluted first, being that Donowitz ranked above her, and made her way to the gate, the reins still over her shoulder. Brutus followed dutifully, not even having broken a sweat yet. She shook hands with Donowitz then.

His strong grip sent a barely-noticeable shiver through her. She'd seen handsome men before, but the only reason Aldo would be introducing them was that he'd be joining their little guerrilla Nazi-hunting party. The thought of the three of them going against the entire Third Reich was tantalizing.

"Now let's get something straight," Aldo started. "This mission they're giving us ain't no picnic. Us and eight other men are gonna kill every Nazi we find, so we gotta be a team. I mean not bein' afraid to say something to each other. Rank is gonna be loose once we get off this base. I'm obviously gonna stay in charge, but we're all gonna be men out there, you get me?"

A "Yes, sir" from Donowitz, a "Got it" from Ella. Relief ran through her. Even though Aldo had just called her a man, by doing so, he made her one of them, a fellow soldier. Few things were as important as her being considered an equal.

"We'll hit the mess for dinner together, the three of us. Ella, I want you to the shooting range when you're done with this beast. Then meet up with Donnie and you two git to know each other, all right? At dinner we'll go over some of them recruits, 'n I'll have them chosen by supper. As you were."

Ella saluted again - in the military, a salute was something that could happen every five minutes - and gathered Brutus' reins to finish his workout.

"Hey, uh, Corporal?"

Ella turned back to the Sergeant, getting a good look at him for the first time. His hair was dark and thick, carefully groomed earlier but tossed a little bit since then. Dark eyes stared back at her, sizing her up just the same way. He was handsome, to be sure; strong jaw, intense eyes, broad shoulders, and Ella could just picture a smirk on those lips. She was, though, just a soldier, and if Aldo even sensed that a man was flirting with Ella, he would make sure they never glanced her way again. It had happened before.

"Whaddya say, meet around eleven? Front of the officer's barracks?"

"Sure," she said, giving him a smile. His accent was strong, and even though she hadn't really been to the East coast of the US, there was no mistaking that. "See you then." Brutus pawed the ground behind her and snorted again, prompting Ella to roll her eyes. "Impatient boy," she intoned, turning to rub the huge animal's face.

"I don't know how you do it," Donowitz said, looking at Brutus. He was quite a bit taller then Ella's 5'5" but was definitely intimidated by the horse. "He could kill us if he wanted to."

"It's easier when you've grown up with them, like I have. And it's not about dominating or forcing the horse, it's more about working with them. If you see them more as a partner, they see you that way, too."

Donowitz furrowed his brow. "Never thought of it like that."

"Most don't. They're like big dogs, most of 'em." Brutus nudged Ella with his nose as she spoke, throwing her off balance a bit. "Okay, okay! Sorry, Sergeant, but he needs to work out some energy."

"Of course. Eleven o'clock?"

"Eleven o'clock."

**A/N: So Ella is a girl after all! haha. A little insight into her past in this one. And in the next one, you find out more! Thanks, readers! -Alex**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: Hello everyone! It's good to see some new followers! Sorry it's a little late - yesterday was my 21st birthday, so...yeah. In other news, here's chapter 4! Obviously I don't own any of this, you guys know that.**

The shooting range was difficult. Ella could not take a stall and target without getting sworn at and shoved by other soldiers, some below her rank, a few above. She had tied her hair back and made sure her uniform was tidy - less for the men to poke fun at. There had been talk of trying to disguise her as male, but in the end, it would have been revealed anyways. So she kept her head high. The only reason she was not attacked was because she was an officer, even an enlisted one - that, and Aldo made it known that any man who tried anything would lose his balls. Rumors were going around the base that Aldo the Apache was batshit crazy, and Ella did nothing to refute them.

After two magazines with each weapon, Ella holstered her handgun and shouldered her rifle. The metal was still warm and felt right at home on her hip and back. If Andrew Demski could see his daughter now, Ella knew that he would holler with joy. That thought always made her smile, even when she was called 'the Lieutenant's Whore' in passing.

Donowitz was waiting for her outside the barracks when she arrived a few minutes after eleven. "Sorry, Sergeant. Hard time getting a spot down at the range."

He nodded, probably knowing what kind of hard time it was. "I bet." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly for a moment. "Might sound, y'know, weird, but there's a park a few blocks off the base if you wanna talk where it's quiet. Since we'll be in such a close group and all, as officers..."

"Don't worry, Sergeant." Ella held back a giggle. "Aldo told us to get to know each other. I think the park is a good idea. Since we're technically Secret Service," she said, waving her hands theatrically. Donowitz smiled, relieved. "Though I will have to change. I shouldn't be seen in public with my uniform. The General was clear about that." Word would travel fast that the Americans had a woman soldier, and not in the fear-inducing way that was intended by this guerrilla group.

"I'll wait," Donowitz said, and Ella double-timed it into the barracks to her bunk, taking out a plain grass-green dress with short sleeves, belted at the waist, and a black crocheted shawl to fend off the chill. Her boots were tossed aside for a pair of small-heeled shoes, plain black and shiny. She didn't have many civilian clothes at the moment, but what she did have was versatile and fashionable.

They made their way to the park and found a bench to sit on. They easily had a little more than an hour before dinner mess to talk.

"So, Sergeant -"

"Aw, call me Donny. The Lieutenant said no formality."

"Call me Ella, then. So, Donny, are you from New England?"

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever makes you say that?" He paused for her laugh. "Boston, to be exact. You?"

"Southern Kentucky. Until I was fifteen, anyway. Then all over."

"Can I ask how a pretty girl got sucked into this mess?"

"If we have a while," Ella replied. She could feel her cheeks reddening. "And only if I can ask how you got here too."

"Fair enough."

"Well," she began, "it was just me and my papa in Bell county. He ran a saddle shop, and after my mama died of fever, I ran the house and helped keep the animals. He came home drunk one night after winning a poker game, talking about the Nazis killing the Poles and wanting to fight them himself. Bourbon, and all that. Well, two German men he had just beaten at poker came by and stabbed him at our dinner table."

Donny's eyebrows shot up.

"Wait for the good part. I packed up my things, got my mare ready, and followed those men home from the tavern, one each night. Buried my papa's hatchet in their skulls."

Donny blinked a few times. "Wow, girlie."

Ella shrugged. "I couldn't leave without doing it. It was almost like the war I kept hearing about, the Germans sneaking up on the Polish in their own home and murdering them. My papa was Polish, and my mama was English and Cherokee. I figured that, since I'm able to, I could come...y'know, avenge him. Him and everyone else that had become a victim."

Donny nodded. "I'm Jewish. It's goddamn personal, this war."

"That's why I'm here. Those German bastards can't get away with this."

"Did you come because of Aldo?"

"I came with Aldo, yeah." For a moment she paused, considering telling Donny about how they met. She decided to exclude a few details. "We met in Tennessee, while I was running away. He was enlisted back onto the military when we had been bumming around for about four years. He told them that we were coming together, or not at all." She chuckled at the memory.

"And they took you?"

"After a lot of hesitation, yes. Thus, you see me here today," she finished grandly. "What about you, Donny Donowitz from Boston?" Ella said, trying her best to mimic his accent. She had told him things she seldom told anyone, and it was because Aldo expected them to trust each other with their lives. Donny knew it, too.

"Well, it's not as exciting as your story. Born and raised in Boston. I watched baseball all my life. I suppose i would have gone out for the Red Sox if not for the opportunity to come kill Nazis. You could probably tell I'm Jewish, and i intend to kill every Nazi i can before goin' home, whether on my feet or in a box." Donny leaned back against the bench, satisfied.

"Stories don't need to be exciting. We're here now, and we got one goal."

"You got it, girl."

"Also, I listened to the Brooklyn Dodgers when they were on the radio. I didn't learn many of the rules, though. Can you teach me while we're on the road?"

"Yeah I can fuckin teach you!" Donny exclaimed. It was easy to see that baseball was Donny's passion - as Ella would see later on the raids. "First of all, you gotta get away from those Dodgers. They ain't no good. Aside from my Red Sox, those Detroit Tigers are a team to watch out for next -"

"Donny," Ella interrupted, laughing. "I meant on the road. Like, when we have the time."

"Oh. Right." He shrugged. "I don't really have anything else about me. I swear a lot, I guess."

"I don't care. I do too." She paused to let a woman walk by with a pram, cooing to her baby. "How do you feel about this whole thing?"

"What, the mission?"

"Yeah."

"I'm glad the General picked me to be a part of it, I know that much. Did he say anything about you going undercover?"

"Yes. I was fitted for dresses yesterday." She sighed. "Not my usual fanfare, but I'm glad, too."

"Can I ask you somethin', Ella?"

"Sure."

"How often do you get to be a lady? I mean, a normal girl?"

Ella sat up straight, crossing her legs tighter and placing her hands in her lap. She looked demurely at Donny and fluttered her eyelashes. "I can become a lady whenever I'd like, Mister Donowitz," she said, sounding like the ideal little southern belle. "Thing is, Donny, I wasn't made for that. My mama wasn't either, and neither was her mama before her. I think I'm meant to be here. So I guess you could say this is my normal." She unraveled her perfect posture and leaned against the back of the bench.

Donny looked at her for a moment, almost curious. Then the same nonchalant, almost egotistical look was back. "These Nazis got another damned thing comin'." He looked up at the sky, watching the gloomy English clouds roll in. "Think we could beat the Lieutenant back to the mess hall? I'm fuckin' hungry."

**A/N: There it is. A lot more of Ella's history in this one as well. Thanks for reading! -Alex**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. I was trying to decide whether to publish this chapter on its own or split this and six, and that's what I did. This one is short, but six will be up tomorrow. Here you go - chapter 5!**

The recruits would arrive before supper the next day. Eight men, all experienced in combat, all dropping everything at a moment's notice to come be part of a guerrilla tactical unit. Ella was excited to meet them.

Donny was beating her at 21 when Aldo found them in the barracks. "They're here. Tidy up, double time to the courtyard by the trucks."

The officers dropped their cards and straightened out their uniforms, Ella tucking any unruly wisps of hair back into her bun. They each holstered their weapons, and Ella belted on the V-42 stiletto knife she had carried since the moment she was made a member of the Devil's Brigade. They glanced over each other, nodded approval, and jogged to the spot Aldo said. They had arrived, no doubt. Eight dark-haired men stood at ease in the courtyard, fully equipped, packs on their backs. They all snapped to attention when the officers came into view, but Ella felt their eyes on her.

"At ease, men," she ordered. Authoritative, but not too demanding. She had to think about keeping the nervousness out of her voice. It wasn't often that Aldo told her to make sure the troops knew what was going on. "I am your Commanding Officer, Corporal Demski. Behind me is Sergeant Donowitz. I have been through hell and back already in this war, and now I'm going again, except that you soldiers are coming with me. You have been briefed on why you are here. This is not your average mission. We are about to head straight into enemy territory and make a name for ourselves killing Nazis. Let me tell you something about your new unit. We are different. We will work differently than the rest of them. We will be a team. Not so much about chain of command, but how many Krauts we can kill before this war is over. I am here to fight alongside you, just like Donowitz here and the Lieutenant. You will follow orders, but we will be brothers. Understood?"

"Yes sir!" they chorused, a little unsure.

"I know I'm a girl. You ain't gotta tell me twice. But I enjoy seeing the blood of those mass-murdering bastards as much as you do. You need to trust me. I'm your CO. And yeah, 'Sir's is the one to go with."

A few of them smiled, just as another pair of boots echoed down the hall to the courtyard. Ella spun an about-face and saluted as Aldo emerged.

"Attention!" Donny's booming voice commanded. Ella fell in beside him when Aldo nodded to them.

"Good show, Corporal," Donny whispered. "I think they're in love."

She just smirked.

Aldo took his snuff out of his pocket, putting a pinch in each nostril, and snapping the tin shut. When he spoke, it was at a normal volume, but Ella found herself hanging on every word as her Lieutenant paced in front of them.

"My name is Lt. Aldo Raine and I'm putting together a special team, and I need me eight soldiers. Eight Jewish-American soldiers. Now, y'all might've heard rumors about the armada happening soon. Well, we'll be leaving a little earlier. We're gonna be dropped into France, dressed as civilians. And once we're in enemy territory, as a bushwhackin' guerrilla army, we're gonna be doin' one thing and one thing only... killin' Nazis. Now, I don't know about y'all, but I sure as hell didn't come down from the goddamn Smoky Mountains, cross five thousand miles of water, fight my way through half of Sicily and jump out of a fuckin' air-o-plane to teach the Nazis lessons in humanity."

Ella chuckled. He sure as hell hadn't.

"Nazi ain't got no humanity. They're the foot soldiers of a Jew-hatin', mass murderin' maniac and they need to be dee-stroyed. That's why any and every every son of a bitch we find wearin' a Nazi uniform, they're gonna die. Now, I'm the direct descendant of the mountain man Jim Bridger. That means I got a little Injun in me. And our battle plan will be that of an Apache resistance. We will be cruel to the Germans, and through our cruelty they will know who we are. And they will find the evidence of our cruelty in the disemboweled, dismembered, and disfigured bodies of their brothers we leave behind us. And the German won't not be able to help themselves but to imagine the cruelty their brothers endured at our hands, and our boot heels, and the edge of our knives. And the German will be sickened by us, and the German will talk about us, and the German will fear us. And when the German closes their eyes at night and they're tortured by their subconscious for the evil they have done, it will be with thoughts of us they are tortured with. Sound good?"

"Yes, sir!" the men said again, stronger this time. Aldo was the best man for this job, no doubt about it. One speech, and his soldiers would follow him to the end of the world.

"That's what I like to hear. But I got a word of warning for all you would-be warriors. When you join my command, you take on debit. A debit you owe me personally. Each and every man under my command owes me one hundred Nazi scalps. And I want my scalps. And all y'all will git me one hundred Nazi scalps, taken from the heads of one hundred dead Nazis. Or you will die tryin'.

"Now move! We fly out at 1600!"

The men marched out.

**A/N: Chapter six up tomorrow! Lemme tell you...it's a big one! See you tomorrow! -Alex**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello! Chapter six, as promised! Now, a few things: first, I apologize to any German speakers - I used Google Translate for this. I tried to do my best, but my second language is Spanish, so there may well be errors. Also, if you have a better idea for formatting between languages, let me know! Secondly, I know how my readers like that Ella isn't stereotypically violent and brutish, but she is still a Basterd, and there was a reason she was chosen for this Special Ops group. Just something to keep in** **mind**.

Over the next two weeks, Ella got to know the new recruits, and the atmosphere in the group relaxed. They weren't just soldiers, they were friends. Wicki was another Corporal, same as Ella, an Austrian who made it out of Europe just in time to become an american citizen. He and Ella were the only ones that were fluent in German. Utivich was sort of shy for a army man, and sweet, but he was a crack shot, and unbelievably stealthy. Hirschberg was sometimes jumpy, Omar could be a little dim, then Kagan, Zimmermann, and Sakowitz...they all were part of her unit. They all had a personal vendetta against the Nazis. And they were very good at making sure the Nazis knew it.

"All right, boys," Aldo said, almost a week since they had been dropped into the woods of France. "First raid is tomorrow. Three miles from here, a German troop is comin' through, and we're gonna be there to meet them. Ella and Wicki, meet me in my tent. You too, Donny."

The three of them followed Aldo back to his tent. Donny had shown his true colors when they ran into a Nazi deserter - his bat, the one he had shown Ella the day after they met, had landed on the Nazi's skull a total of twelve times. Omar had winced, but Ella had stared with rapt attention. She had only known him for a week, but she had never thought that much anger could come out of one man all at once. He said it was the first one he was able to hit since he was with his old regiment, which convinced General Alexander that he should be transferred. Next time Donny took a bat to a Nazi, Ella would be less taken aback and more able to cheer him on.

"Tomorrow's raid is where we start to make a name for ourselves," Aldo said. "For each raid, we let one man go. I'm gonna mark him." He held up his huge Bowie knife. "Somethin' they can't ever take off. We're gonna scare the living shit out of those Krauts. Donny, you're gonna have a big hand in that. Wicki, I'll probably need you to translate. Ella, you be my smart little girl and go all psychological on 'em. I'll let you figure out how on yer' own. Wicki, I'm gonna ask you to go over the maps with Utivich, so the two of you can be on point. We're gonna be wakin' up before dawn, so make sure they get good sleep tonight. I'll be in here if you need me."

"Study your French, Aldo," Ella said as the soldiers left the tent. He huffed at her back.

* * *

Utivich and Wicki were a quarter of a mile ahead, just as light started filtering through the trees. None of the soldiers were wearing uniforms - just an assortment of camo-colored green jackets and pants. Ella had on dark green swing pants, belted high at her waist, with a dark khaki shirt tucked into her belt. Over that was an olive green wool jacket, and to ward off the cold, a pair of black gloves and a black scarf. Her tall boots were laced up high and tight. She had gotten up a little earlier than the men and and french-braided her thick black hair. This was what she'd been waiting for. Her rifle was in her arms as she followed Aldo and Donny, weaving through the thick trees as silently as possible.

"Hunker down," Aldo whispered. Ella held a fist up above her shoulder and dropped to a crouch, the men behind her following the signal. Now they were to wait for Wicki's signal. Ella could hear her heart pounding in her chest and hoped that it was only in her ears.

A minute later, what sounded like an owl echoed through the trees. One short hoot, and one long, followed by another short, two long, and one last short. AP in morse code - Wicki's signal that the marching Nazis were approaching. Aldo gave one wave forward, and the regiment started towards the road. They split into three groups, and each would flank the incoming German troop, estimated to be at about thirty men. Hidden, they would fire about twenty-seven down, and interrogate the rest, specifically leaving a ranked officer alive for information.

Soon after they were in position around the road, men in grey uniforms came into view. When they were directly in front of the group, the shots began. Ella took a deep breath between each shot, aiming for the head and hitting all four she went for. Being that nine of them were shooting, there weren't many to go around. Their guns raised, all except for Aldo and Donny rounded up the last four Germans and forced them to their knees, taking their guns and knives.

"Wilkommen in Frankenreich, Krauts!" Ella shouted. _(Welcome to France, Krauts!)_ They had lined the German soldiers up just off the road, behind a smattering of trees. Omar and Kagan set about scalping the dead Germans, while Hirschberg, Sakowitz, and Zimmerman held guns on the live ones. Aldo stood behind Ella, watching, while Donny hid. He was probably warming up his arms. "Mein Name ist Ella. Wir sind die Basterds." _(My name is Ella. We are the Basterds.)_ She and Aldo had decided on the name late last night. After running past Donny and Wicki, they told the rest of the men. Everyone was pretty satisfied with it.

"Sie haben uns noch nicht kennen," she continued. "aber bald, wird Ihnen sagen, ganz Deutschland, wer wir sind." _(You do not know us yet, but soon, you will tell all of Germany who we are.)_ "Sie!" She pointed at the officer. "Sprechen sie Englisch?" _(Speak English?)_

The officer nodded.

"Then move. Front and center." She pointed to the ground in front of her. Zimmerman walked him forward and pushed him down again. Ella stepped aside for Aldo to take over.

"Like the corporal said, we're the Basterds. Now, Sergeant, we want information. Git me?" The German Sergeant slowly nodded again. Ella smirked at the terrified look on his face. This was exactly what they wanted.

"All right then. What I need from you is where you were goin', and when the next group is comin' through. Point out on this map where you were headed." Aldo opened a large map in front of the Sergeant, who violently started shaking his head no.

"You gonna say somethin or what?"

"I will not give away our positions. Nein."

"You sure? 'Cause we got some fun things planned for you if you don't."

The German's eyes widened. Ella's smirk grew. "Sprechen jetzt." _(Speak now.)_

Wicki and Utivich jogged up, returning from their spotter positions. The German Sergeant suddenly grew angry and spat on Aldo's boots.

"No need for that, now. This is your last chance, else I'll call my friend and we'll give your men a show."

The German crossed himself and closed his eyes, bowing his shaking head.

"Okay, then. Donny! You bring yourself over here. German Sarge ain't talkin."

Donny's heavy boots crunched on the dead leaves. He burst through the brush, his jacket gone, just wearing an undershirt and woolen pants with suspenders. His bat was in his hand. Ella saw all the scribbles from the signatures from people he loved along with people he hardly knew but had known the struggle of being a Jew in Europe. Those people whose names were on the bat were those he was fighting for.

Anger dark in his eyes, Donny reached down to the German's neck and yanked his dog tags off. "These are mine now," he said, stuffing them in his pocket. The trembling German kept his eyes on the ground, mumbling something in his native language. Wicki, who had moved up next to Aldo, translated for Donny.

"He is asking for mercy."

Donny put his bat under the soldier's chin and made him look up, in the eye. "No."

One powerful swing and the German was on the ground, convulsing. Blood splattered Donny and his bat, but he was not finished. He brought the bat down like an axe, cracking bones and obliterating the soldier's head. His next shot was at the ribs, and their cracks were even louder. Donny struck a few more times, the sweat beginning to glisten on his bare arms. The Americans whooped and hollered, cheering on their Sergeant.

One German Private decided he would take the opportunity to try and get past the Americans. He leapt up and stumbled for the gap between Ella and a huge oak, making for the road. Ella was ready for him. She smoothly sidestepped and pointed her rifle directly at his chest, stopping him as he ran into the barrel.

"Sie sind zu unterbrechen," she scolded. _(You are interrupting.)_

"Schlampe!" the Private spat.

He had hardly gotten the word out before Ella brought the butt of her rifle to meet his cheek - hard. All of the anger she held in from the remarks and whispers behind her back came out in that one swing. The Private fell to his knees, clutching his face. Knowing her men would have plenty of guns on this particular soldier, she dropped her rifle and unsheathed her stiletto knife. "Meinst du?" _(You think so?)_ "Hold him," she said, and Donny was instantly behind the Private and holding him by his arms, droplets of blood still dotting his face. Ella knelt in front of the Private, brandishing her knife.

"Sagen Sie mir, Sie schätzen Ihre Finger? Ihre Zehen? Vielleicht sollte ich sie ausrotten." _(Tell me, do you value your fingers? Your toes? Maybe I should cut them off.)_ She feigned thinking for a moment, tapping the blade lightly against her lips. "Oder vielleicht sollte ich Sie wie ein Tiger zu markieren. Sie wird als der Mann, der einen Tiger gemacht von einem polnischen Mädchen wurde bekannt sein."_ (Or maybe I should mark you like a tiger. You will be known as the man who was made a tiger by a Polish girl.)_

He sputtered, a drop of blood appearing from the corner of the Private's mouth. He had lost his former confidence and he looked like a deer that was staring into the mouth of a wolf. Ella examined him a moment more, then sighed. "Nein, ich sollte dies tun, statt." _(No, I should do this instead.)_ She grasped the Private's chin in her hand, slipped the blade into his mouth, and pulled it through his unbruised cheek. He let out a shriek and tried to thrash away, but Donny held him tight. Ella wiped the blade delicately on the fabric of her pants and stood up.

"Aldo, my dear, I will turn him over to you."

"Now, son, you gonna tell me what I need to know?"

The Private didn't understand. Wicki had to go over and translate, but Aldo got all the information he asked for with ease.

"Hirschberg, Sakowitz, kill those other ones. We'll let this one tell the rest who we are."

More gunfire, and the open-cheeked Private was the last German remaining. "Wölfin," he sputtered before Donny forced him onto his back and Aldo crouched over him. Ella hadn't heard that one before. She went over to Wicki.

"Wölfin?"

"She-wolf," he said. "He called you a she-wolf."

She shrugged. "Not bad. Better than Schlampe."

Wicki nodded, looking on as Aldo marked the soldier. He was the most stoic person Ella had ever met - no one could read him. Ella was happy to know him, though. He was level-headed, and kept calm in any situation.

"All right," Aldo called to his men, standing up. The German Private was passed out on the ground, blood dripping his cheek and from the Swastika that was now carved into his forehead. "Let's high-tail it outta here."

**A/N: Well...there it is. Another side to Ella. Thank you to my readers, you're the best!**


	7. Chapter 7

Two months went by like this, the Basterds raiding camps and intercepting Nazi brigades. They kept assorted German uniforms, a few of rank, most of a casual, unremarkable soldier. Ella cooked every night she could - when she didn't, the men griped about how they would rather eat tree bark. One evening, she overheard Utivich and Omar talking about how it was nice to have a 'woman's touch' sometimes, and that made Ella happy. Her men respected her, but they liked having her around as well. That wasn't usually the goal of a commanding officer, but for Ella, it was just fine.

The chilly and cloudy gloom gave way to warm French sunshine in April, and the Basterds spent more time sitting outside at the fire than in their tents trying to conserve heat. Ella had taken an afternoon to give each of the men a haircut, since they so desperately needed them. Living in a tent tended to roughen up a man.

"Ella, I want you to go into town tomorrow. You know what that means," Aldo said when Ella had finished with his hair.

"Curlers!" Donny yelled from inside his tent, sending himself into a laughing fit at the image. Ella picked up a pinecone and threw it at the canvas.

"Shut up, Donny. I meant you need to look nice. Also Wicki will take you, in one of the uniforms, so pretend you like Nazis, okay?"

"Sure. Should I speak German or French?"

"Both. You'll be a French girl courting a German soldier." Aldo splashed water on his face. "Basically, we need to know gossip. So, the papers, the cafes, like that."

"Like Louisville."

"Exactly. Wicki, did you hear all that?" Aldo asked the other Corporal. Wicki nodded, lighting a cigarette.

Donny came out of his tent and sat cross-legged in front of Ella. They had to make do without a chair, but if Ella sat up on her knees like she was in church, she could get a good angle if the men sat low enough. Ella laid a dirty, torn shirt over his shoulders and pushed his head forward a little to get the back of his neck evenly.

"Hey, why does Wicki get to take ya to town?"

"Because he speaks German, Donny. I don't think you would pass for German. Or French, for that matter."

"But it gets boring sitting in the woods," he huffed.

"I've been here with you the whole time, Donny. I know." She moved over to his right side. "It's not going to be fun, anyways. We're there to listen in on people and to learn information."

Donny huffed, going quiet under the scissors. Something told Ella that there was more to it than him being bored in the woods, but when Donny didn't want to talk, there was no way around it. He stayed quiet for the rest of his haircut, and Ella let him be.

* * *

Ella was up before any of the men the next morning (except, of course, whomever was on watch), making sure to take her curlers out before they saw. Donny was right - they looked ridiculous. But they helped her put together her civilian persona, so they were necessary.

She slipped into her dress, a navy cap-sleeve with tan trim around the collar and sleeves with a bow at the v on her sternum. It was tight through her waist and went flowy at the hips, the hem falling just below her knees. The seamstresses, who were the wives of two British Lieutenants on the base, had done a wonderful job. Ella had enough room to strap a PPK pistol she had taken from a German soldier on the first raid on her thigh. Out a small velvet case she took a vial of mascara and a palette of rouge with a small mirror, deciding her eyes were dark enough to skip the eyeliner this time. It was no fancy occasion, anyways. Just a few hours in town.

Once the rouge was applied beneath her cheekbones and the mascara was on her lashes, she put away the makeup and bent to get her shoes. Her favorites were a pair of Mary Janes, closed-toe with two small straps and buckles and a black-and-white leather design that was reminiscent of a man's saddle shoe. The heel was about two inches, much more than her boots were, but hopefully she would be used to them by the time she and Wicki got to town. Last were the gloves, simple tan ones that covered her wrists and matched the tan of the bow and her dress.

The men were starting to wake up, and she could hear Aldo tending the fire. He would expect them to leave soon. Just before she left the tent, though, she remembered her lipstick. Back to the velvet case and the mirror. The only shade she had was a medium red that one seamstress told her fit her skin tone, as if Ella knew better. She stalled another five minutes, putting on the lipstick and examining herself in the palm-sized mirror. It was certainly strange, seeing herself all made-up and feminine, but she knew the key to pulling off a guise like this was confidence to back it up. Preparing for the endless teasing that would come from the boys, Ella picked up her small black purse and stepped out of her tent to meet her soldiers.

"There's my little spy," Aldo said from a log by the fire. Every eye in the camp turned to her, and silence ensued for a moment. Aside from Aldo, the only Basterd that had seen her in actual civilian clothing was Donny, and that was only once and not nearly this put-together. He gaped just the same as the rest of them. She sighed.

"Been awhile since you saw a woman all dressed up, huh, boys?" She took a cigarette out of her purse and went over to Aldo for a light. He just pulled a stick out of the fire and held it out to her.

"You can't expect me to feel classy after that."

"I don't. Just when you leave camp."

"Miss Demski?" Wicki had emerged from the tent he shared with Utivich, dressed in the grey uniform of a German Private. Since the day she had addressed the new recruits, she hadn't seen any of them in an official uniform. As much as she hated the Nazis, they knew how to uniform a man.

"Hello, _schön_!" Ella said, getting up and kissing Wicki on both cheeks. She could practically feel the daggers coming from Aldo's eyes. Whatever - she was getting in character. And Wicki_ was_ handsome.

"Ain't you two cute. Now git outta here, it's almost nine," Aldo grumbled. He really had turned into a father or older brother to Ella - namely in the way of protectiveness. Nothing Ella did got past Aldo. Especially not her being a little flirty.

"Yes, sir," Ella replied, saluting enthusiastically and sticking her tongue out at him. "Ready?"

Wicki nodded and offered her his arm. Ella couldn't help but notice that Donny had gone into his tent once Wicki had appeared. For some reason, he was mad that he couldn't go into town. She let it go, figuring he'd get over it once they returned without any real news.

Once they reached the road, Ella and Wicki didn't have far to go until they reached Château-Thierry, a town on La Marne river not terribly far from Paris but still close to the woods where they could camp and not be noticed. The Germans actively occupied Château-Thierry, so Wicki could dress as a soldier without anyone questioning him. On the Avenue, where most of the shops were, it was fairly common to see soldiers, so that's where Ella and Wicki headed.

They started by going to a General Store, Ella asking the woman at the counter for a newspaper while Wicki browsed.

"Vous êtes une fille chanceuse, courtiser un soldat!" the woman said, glancing at Wicki._ (You are a lucky girl, courting a soldier!)_

"Merci, madame. Il est très beau, pour un Allemand!" she joked, and they laughed._ (Thank you, Ma'am. He is quite handsome, for a German!)_

"Voici votre journal. En parlant de soldats, il ya un article sur Frederick Zoller et le nouveau film de Goebbels aujourd'hui. Mais la première page parle d'un homme qui a tué treize officiers nazis!"_ (Here's your newspaper. Speaking of soldiers, there's a piece about Frederick Zoller and Goebbels' new movie today. But the front page is about a man that killed thirteen Nazi officers!)_

Ella's eyebrows shot up. "Mon dieu! Treize?" she exclaimed._ (My God! Thirteen?)_ Forget cafe gossip. She and Wicki had just found real news. Looking down at the paper, Ella saw fourteen pictures, the largest being an angry-looking Sergeant. Below were the officers he had killed, some of which were on the Basterds' hit list. Ella tried to keep herself calm.

"Oui. Dieu merci, il est de la rue et en garde des Allemands." _(Yes. Thank goodness he is off the streets and in custody of the Germans.)_

"Comment effrayant. Je suis heureux qu'ils l'ont attrapé," Ella replied._ (How frightening. I'm glad they caught him.)_ Wicki walked up beside her with two oranges and placed them on the counter beside the paper, fishing in his pockets for a coin.

"Interessante Neuigkeiten heute, Wilhelm. Möchten Sie ins Cafe gehen?"_ (Interesting news today, Wilhelm. Would you like to go to the cafe?)_ Wicki smiled and nodded, placing a silver coin on the counter for the attendant.

"Merci, Monsieur. Bonne journée, Mademoiselle."_ (Thank you, sir. Good day, Miss.)_

"Adieu," Ella replied, and she took Wicki's arm again. They walked three blocks to a cafe, and Ella ordered them two cups of coffee, two croissants, and plates for their oranges, since Wicki's French was very limited.

"Über die Mann. Hugo Stiglitz."_ (About the man. Hugo Stiglitz.)_ "Wir sollten sagen der Lieutenant, nein?"_ (We should tell the Lieutenant, no?)_

"Ya," Wicki said as their coffees and croissants arrived. "Wir müssen."_ (We must.)_

Ella nodded. "Was denken Sie, wird er tun?"_ (What do you think he will do?)_

"Wir werden sehen. Ich hoffe, dass wir etwas tun."_ (We will see. I hope we do something.)_

From there, they went on to talk quietly about French and German films, where they were going for Christmas, about what life was like for Wicki as a German soldier, all while listening to the chatter around them. They heard that the Jew Hunter, Colonel Hans Landa of the SS, was in France. Other than that, there was no real valuable information - aside from what the newspaper told them, of course.

"Soll ich dich nach Hause bringen?"_ (Shall I take you home?)_ This was their code to ask if they should head back.

"Ya. Mein Vater wird sich freuen, dich zu sehen." _(Yes. My father will be glad to see you.)_ She tucked the newspaper under her arm and they left the cafe.

* * *

"Aldo!" Ella called when they got back to the camp. "Aldo, you gotta see this."

"What the hell are you yelling about?"

"News, Aldo. Here." She clumsily sat next to him on the log by the fire, handing him the newspaper.

"Goddamnit, El, I don't read German."

"I know, but see this guy? Above all those German officers?"

"Git to the point."

"He killed the rest of them. All thirteen, before getting caught. Brutally."

Aldo was suddenly interested. "What's this got to do with us?"

"They're not executing him. They're taking him to Berlin and 'making an example out of him,' it says."

Aldo looked down at the paper, thinking. Ella waited, almost able to see him thinking.

"Well, boys, looks like we're going to Berlin."

**A/N: Woohoo! Off to Berlin! Thanks for reading, everyone! **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry it's so late! Got a little stuck, and I like to stay a chapter ahead, but here it is! Chapter 8! I recently broke 500 views, and I don't know what that actually means on this site as far as popularity, but it makes me feel great! So thanks, you guys :)**

This time, Ella's dress was tighter. There was a keyhole gap in the chest, revealing just a little more skin than she was comfortable with. Her hair was in more of an updo, the curls bouncing higher. She had applied full makeup and her alligator-skin heels were three inches high - more than she'd ever worn. Distraction was a must in this particular operation, and Ella had to be at her best.

A bottle of milk in one hand, her PPK in the other behind her back, she turned the corner and waltzed up to the German prison guard. A mask had come down over her face and she was now a pretty German girl who was looking for her brother, coming to give news of their mother's illness.

"Hallo, mein Bruder ist hier stationiert. Darf ich ihn sehen?"_ (Hello. My brother is stationed here. May I see him?)_ She was holding out hope that this guard was not stern, that she could loosen him up with a big smile and batting her eyelashes. Thankfully, it was starting to work. He was looking at her figure more than he was scrutinizing her.

"Wer ist dein Bruder? Ich könnte dich zu ihm bringen." _(Who is your brother? I might take you to him.)_

"Ja, sein Name ist Heinrich." _(Yes, his name is Heinrich.)_ It was the most generic German name she could think of.

"Heinrich?"

The distraction she needed was for that exact moment. She brought the milk bottle up and to the guard's temple, the glass smashing against his head. His eyes rolled back to the whites, but before he could fall, her arms were out and she caught his limp form, slowing his deadweight momentum, laying him down without a sound. Walking on the balls of her feet as much as she could, she fished out the key ring from the guard's pocket, tucked it into her cleavage and crept through the door.

The hallways were fairly empty, since the prison had been cleared for Stiglitz's arrival. Such a brazen way of getting inside would never have worked otherwise. After clearing the initial entrance, she whistled once, a catcall as they had arranged. Donny appeared first, carrying Ella's jacket with her rank on it and a rifle for her. Nodding thanks, she slipped the jacket on and checked the rifle, glad for more coverage. It didn't escape her that Donny had stolen a glance before handing over the equipment. Utivich and Kagan took over as point, staying ten feet ahead of everyone else. The prison was old and dusty, the concrete floors scuffed from years of boots and blood. After some slit throats and snapped necks, they had almost reached the lone cell where Stiglitz was being kept. Silence was one thing the Basterds were all impeccable at. The ability to appear and disappear without a sound was invaluable. Lining up around the corner, Utivich and Zimmerman looked through their troop, an unspoken signal passing between each of them to say that they were ready. The two took off through the holding area, taking out three of the four guards. Ella dropped to a knee at the corner and took out the last one, letting the hall fall into silence.

"Clear," Zimmerman said, and the Basterds filed into the dirty room. One man sat in the cell, smoking a cigarette. The man they had come for. Aldo came in last.

"Hugo Stiglitz?"

The man just nodded, calmly taking a drag on his cigarette. Some German groaned and a Basterd shot him again without a second thought. The shell clinked on the floor.

"I'm Aldo Raine. We're the Basterds. Heard of us?"

The man nodded again. Ella guessed Wicki had met his stoic match, and then the prisoner spoke.

"The Bear Jew. Aldo the Apache. Wölfin. You are famous." His english was decent, which was a relief to the Basterds. To have someone following him around to translate would be tedious.

"I wanna say we're big fans of your work," Aldo continued. "But your status as a Nazi-killer is still amateur. We came to see if you wanna go pro."

Stiglitz nodded again. Ella stepped forward and retrieved the keys from her dress, searching for the right one. She opened the door and then took care of Stiglitz's handcuffs.

"Welcome to the Basterds, Hugo Stiglitz."

* * *

Darkness had settled over the camp. The Basterds had started making their way back to France, and the second night after they had picked up Hugo, they were slightly ahead of schedule. Most of the men had gone to bed, but Ella had been given watch, so she sat at the smoldering fire with a copy of The Horse's Mouth by Joyce Cary, trying to read in the little light she had. Hugo sat across from her, lighting yet another cigarette. He seemed to conjure packs of them out of thin air.

"Miss Demski?" Hugo would call her nothing but this or by her rank. When she asked why, he only shrugged and said, "It is correct."

"Yeah?"

"I met the man who gave you your nickname. The Private from your first attack."

"Did you? I wonder, will he have a scar on his cheek?"

"Most definitely," Hugo replied with a chuckle. "What you are doing...you and your men...danke."

A small smile crossed Ella's face. "Sie sind wilkommen, Hugo. We are glad to have you."

He crushed out his cigarette and stood up, gave her one nod, and went to his tent, nothing more to be said. The complexities of men sometimes confounded Ella.

She went back to her book, keeping an ear out for any possible threat. Two hours and one hundred pages by low light later, Ella heard a branch snap. The book hit the dirt and almost before she knew it, Ella's PPK was out and cocked, her body twisted down into a low crouch. The dark slowly became clearer. She was frozen solid, trying to identify the form that was a mere twenty yards from her. It was smaller than a person, hovering close to the ground. The form was almost as dark as the night behind it, and it was not moving, just like Ella.

They stood at a standoff for about a minute, and then Ella realized. It was a dog. The gun remained in her hand because she had seen plenty of unfriendly dogs in her life, but she knelt down instead of crouching, making her stance less defensive. The dog hunkered low, watching her.

"Hey, pup," Ella murmured. The hand that wasn't holding the gun reached out, beckoning with her fingers. "Here, boy." Ella never could resist befriending an animal. Or at least trying to.

The dog hesitated a long time. Ella sat there for five minutes, making a kissy noise once in a while, holding her hand out to the dog. She could see through the dark better, and his face was clear now. He was a little scrawny, and he had ears that could probably receive a signal if you angled them right. She wasn't sure, but Ella thought he could be a German Shepherd puppy, almost a year old, if she figured right. Her father had had a Collie, and the breeds' sizes were similar. He could have easily gotten away from or been abandoned by the German army, since they used Hitler's favorite animal in the field sometimes.

The dog finally shuffled forward a little. Finding her canteen with her empty hand, Ella unscrewed the cap and sloshed the water around inside. The dog knew that sound - his ears perked up and he lifted his head.

"Well, c'mere, then," she said quietly. He paused again, really not knowing whether to trust her or not. Ella had gone through the same thing with Winnie; eventually, the animal just gets too curious. Sure enough, the pup cautiously came forward until he was six feet away from Ella. She sloshed the water around again, holding the canteen's mouth out to him. He came closer and sniffed the canteen...and then he licked it. She tipped it towards him and he lapped up the drops that fell out.

"Good boy," she said, inching the canteen back her way. He followed it until they were a foot away from each other. Then he just looked at her.

"I know what you want," Ella said, mostly to herself. There was some leftover jerky in her pack next to the log. Moving slowly so she didn't startle him, she flopped the pack open and took a piece out, biting off a corner for the dog. He sniffed her fingers, decided it was too much to resist, and gobbled the jerky down. She moved to pat his head, and to her surprise, he didn't leap away or try to bite her when her fingers touched the top of his head.

"Here. It's warmer on this side." Ella reached under his ribs and lifted him over the log closer to the fire. Now she was almost sure he was a German Shepherd - his coat was mostly black, but tan fur spread under his chin and across his chest, belly, and down his legs. He had two little tan spots where his 'eyebrows' were, and his snout resembled that of a wolf. She scratched behind his ear, and he seemed to visibly relax.

He laid down and rested his head on her boot. Ella could only imagine how he had gotten here and survived in the woods to find his way to their camp. They stayed like this, Ella reaching down to pet him and reading by the firelight, until dawn, when Donny woke up.

"Who's that?" The scruffy man rubbed his eyes, staring down at the little thing at Ella's feet.

"Don't know his name yet. He wandered up in the middle of the night."

Donny came over to sit next to Ella on the log, adjusting his suspenders and yawning. The gold pendant that hung around his neck bounced on his chest. The dog looked at him warily, but seemed too sleepy to really do anything.

"What will Aldo think?"

Ella sighed. "I don't know. He'll be skeptical. Definitely against me keeping him. But I think I could train him and stuff." She looked at Donny, then back at the dog. "Actually, he kinda looks like you."

"Very funny."

"What about Duke?"

"What, for a name? He's a little small for that one, isn't he?" At about a foot tall at his shoulder, maybe Donny was right.

"He'll grow into it, if I know anything about Shepherds."

"Ella, what the hell is that sleepin' on your boot?"

There was Aldo, and that tone of voice was reserved for those who had really annoyed him.

"Now, hold on, Aldo..."

"No 'hold on, Aldo.' Where did that dog come from?"

"He wandered up while I was on watch. I'll train him, carry him until he's bigger, feed him from my own rations if I must. He could be useful. The Germans use them all the time, and it looks like they chose him but he got away."

Aldo stood there, his lips pursed, glaring at Ella. As if trying to persuade him, the pup looked up at him and cocked his head, ears pointing at his girl.

"Goddamnit, Ella Demski -"

"If I had a nickel for every time I heard that, Aldo Raine."

"He falls behind, he barks, he gets hurt, that's it. You hear me?" He shook his finger at her as he laid down the rules.

"Yes, sir!" Ella sat up straight and saluted her Lieutenant. Anyone else would have made her get rid of the dog.

"Ace," Donny said from beside her. "His name should be Ace."

Ella looked down at their new pup. "What about it, boy? Ace?" He licked her hand excitedly. She lifted him into her lap, which he was already almost too big for. The pup's tongue turned to Donny and slathered his cheek. His face scrunched up into a funny smile and when he looked at Ella, suddenly she'd never been happier.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello again! Alex here with chapter 9! Of course, these characters (except Ella) belong to Tarantino and whatnot.**

Pinecones had become essential to their entertainment. Someone would pitch, another would use Donny's bat and hit, and Ace would go running after the pinecone to fetch it. The dog knew how to sit and stay, he knew a hand signal from Ella that told him no barking, and to sic 'em if Ella said so. He responded best to her, but she made sure he would obey any of the Basterds. He was growing so fast that they just used a belt they lifted from a German uniform as a collar, making new holes as he outgrew it. His weight had almost doubled and he gained two inches in height in about a month. Another three months, Ella thought, and he'd be a year old and mostly fully grown. And if he wasn't with her, he was with Donny. Ella caught him babying the puppy the most, and once, Donny had fallen asleep with Ace snuggling next to him, his arm wrapped around the dog.

They had been on the move and attacking for almost three days straight, once in a dried-up riverbed under a bridge and in an orchard the next day, taking shifts over 36 hours to spot and shoot down snipers. The men were exhausted, and now they were getting word that they had to pick up and move again, to a French town called Nadine. At least they had gotten to fill their packs with apples and grapes. Aldo was giving them 24 hours to sleep and relax, and then they'd be gone. He put Ella and Donny on watch for the first twelve so they could switch off if they needed to. Soon enough it was just the two of them awake.

"So do you like it?" Ella sat by the fire her arms around her knees.

"Like what?" Donny said through a mouthful of beans. Ace was sitting obediently in front of him, on his best behavior in hopes of a spoonful.

"The Bear Jew."

"Fuckin' love it. Might even keep it when we get back across the water."

"Batting cleanup for the Red Sox, get on your feet for number seven, Donny 'The Bear Jew' Donowitz!" Ella exclaimed, doing her best to mimic a ballpark announcer. He had taught her almost everything she needed to know about baseball. "Tell you what, I'll come to Boston to see a game a month of they announce you like that."

"What about you, Miss She-Wolf?"

"I like it. Don't know if it would stick at home, though."

"Speaking of home," he mumbled after a minute. "You thinking about what you're gonna do when the war is over?"

Ella hadn't, really. Mostly because she knew that being in the military had been her whole life, and when they finished this war, she had to make a whole new one. "I dunno. I could always moonshine with Aldo."

"Ella Demski, don't you dare waste that mind you got. You're way fuckin' smarter than those guys," Donny blurted. By the look on his face, he had surprised himself by saying that out loud.

Ella blushed. She didn't feel heat in her cheeks often, but when she did, it was always Donny. "You're sweet, but what else am I gonna do? Wait tables? If you thought it was hard for me fitting in here, wait until I get home as the first female military officer. Everything from here out is gonna be dull, if anyone even takes a Corporal from a guerrilla tactical unit."

"Go to New York. I guarantee you there will be something there. There's something for everyone in New York."

Ella shrugged. "At least I'd be close to Yankee stadium," she joked.

Donny nearly spat out his beans. "The Yankees can suck my huge -"

"Donny! I was kidding. I'd never betray you like that."

"You'd better not." He pulled the sharp lid off of the empty can of beans and set the can on the ground for Ace. "Gonna take him back with you?"

"Of course! I'll just have him instead of a husband." She meant it as a joke but deep down, she heard some truth in her words. Honestly, what man in 1944 would date a woman that was a Corporal in the Army and acted like it?

"Come on," Donny groaned. "Like you'd have trouble finding a man."

"Donny, you know better than that. I'm not exactly the homemaker type." She looked at him with her best attempt at sarcasm, but it just turned into something like despair.

Donny felt a pang in his chest. Here she was, one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen, determined, adventurous, intelligent...and, seemingly, doomed. Shaking his head, he got up and held his hand out to Ella. "C'mere." He hoisted her up, not without noticing how her skin was still soft after living on the road with a gun in her hand for months, and put his hands on her shoulders. "Don't be like that, El. I told you there's something for everyone in New York. You are..." He took a deep breath. "You are one of the greatest women I know. Tell you what. When we get old and if we haven't found someone to marry, it'll be you and me. Got it?" It was less than elegant, but he meant it.

Ella sputtered for a second. "Never thought I'd hear you say something like that, Donny Donowitz," she stammered.

"I'm full of surprises, El." He smirked. "Whaddya say, then? To my deal?"

"It's a deal, Mr. Donowitz," Ella said, recovering a little. Her heart had started beating a little too fast. She was just staring up at him, finally seeing another side to him than the bat-wielding Army man. The side she had always secretly hoped was there.

Thunder echoed above them. Ella shivered.

"Want my jacket?" Donny murmured.

"Not cold," Ella replied.

He couldn't wait any longer. He had been waiting since the moment he saw her galloping towards him on that giant horse in England. He had been waiting since he had watched her terrorize that first Private in awe. Waiting since she went into town with Wicki and jealousy had hit him harder than he knew it could. Waiting since he realized that he didn't want any of those other women he had dated back in the States - none of them would measure up to Ella Demski. So he kissed her.

For a moment, she didn't know what to do with herself. In a way, though, she had wanted this all along. Wanted Donny all along._ Relax_, she told herself, _and let him lead_. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. She felt his hands on her hips, pressing her against him, and a small gasp escaped her. That's when Donny stepped back.

"El, I'm sorry, I just don't know if I'm going to be able to stop myself."

It took her a second to fully realize what that meant. But now that he had gotten her going, there was no way she wanted to stop now.

"I don't want you to."

"W-what?"

"Donny, I don't want you to stop. But be...be a gentleman."

He didn't hesitate. He swept her up in his arms just as the rain started coming down and carried her to her tent. Shoving her pack aside, he laid her on her bedroll. This wasn't quite how he would have imagined - in a perfect world, he would be that gentleman, because she deserved that, not a bedroll on the ground. But war was a funny thing, and while it wasn't perfect, he had her, and that's all he cared about.

"El, I want you to know that this isn't because it's been awhile. It's because I don't want anyone else."

"I know." Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. As the rain pattered down onto the canvas of the tent, unfamiliar tendrils of fear crept over her. But then she leaned up to kiss Donny again, and knew that his arms were the safest place she'd ever be.

* * *

When Aldo woke up a few hours later and came out of his tent, the camp was fairly dry. It had only drizzled, and the canopy of the trees had kept the fire from going out. Ella was sitting on a stump with her book, scratching Ace's ears.

"Where's Donny?"

"He's asleep. Only for about an hour," she said, answering the question she knew he was going to ask.

Aldo watched her for a moment, his hands perched on his belt. He had known her for too long to not notice something was different.

"So, you and the Sarge, huh?"

Her head snapped up in surprise.

"Aw, Ella, you got a better poker face than that," he scolded lightly. "I'm gonna tell you that I don't mind, I see the way he looks at you and you back, and I figured you were gonna fall for him, but you're both soldiers. My officers, to be exact. And if you don't keep thinkin' like my officers -"

"You know better, Aldo Raine," Ella interrupted. "We're gonna finish this war before anything else." She was almost offended that Aldo even thought she would get all silly and forget she was an officer in the military. "Speaking of, is there anything you can tell me about what we're doing in Nadine?"

"Well," Aldo began. "There's this movie premiere that a lot of Nazi officers are gonna go to. We got a contact in the British army that can get us in there. Wicki, Hugo, and a Brit Lieutenant are gonna meet her in a tavern and get intel on it."

"She? Who's this contact?"

"German actress, I think. Von Hammersmarck." Aldo sat down at the fire, giving a sideways look to Ace.

"You mean our contact is German? And we're supposed to trust her? Some actress we've never met before?" Ella was stunned that their superiors would fall for this.

"She's been a contact for the British army for three years. I guess she's okay."

Ella frowned. "Aldo, I know you like me to be honest with you, and I don't like the feel of this one."

"Ain't up to me. This one's from the General. Plus, think of us destroying most of the German high command."

She shook her head. Her hand absentmindedly went to Ace's ears, scratching right behind them where he liked it most.

"I've already talked to Hugo and Wicki, and they're up to it."

"Well, they don't have a choice, do they?" Ella sighed. "I guess we have to trust her. Even though I don't."

"We'll make sure to tell her that if anything goes wrong, she has you to answer to."

"Fuckin-a she does," Ella said, interrupted halfway by a yawn.

"Go to bed, El. We're haulin' out in 10 hours. I want you rested up. And in your own tent," Aldo grumbled.

"Yes, sir." She got up and rolled her eyes, her back popping, Ace following her to her tent.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Surprise! I wrote THREE chapters today and yesterday, and since this one is less eventful than the next few will be, I figured I'd give you guys a present! Chapter 10 is here! yeahh double digits! Anyways, I hope you like it! Reviews really help, so thank to you who have given some!**

It took two days to reach Nadine on foot. The men set up camp in a woodsy area just outside of town at around noon, and Ella retreated to her tent. Today she was headed into Nadine to scope out the town and find a collar and leash for Ace. No escort today, mostly because the two men that spoke German were going to meet Von Hammersmarck in the tavern later that night, and two sightings with different women would raise some suspicions. Her backstory this time was that her grandparents in Chartres were ill and infirm, and she was just travelling through on her way from Paris to take care of them and their business. Her brother had sent along his dog as protection, and his collar had broken, so she needed a new one. She would go into town and visit the house of a veterinarian first, a man who had been helping Jews get out of France for years and, once upon a time, was a friend of the British army. She would pretend he was an old family friend, and since he had no wife or children, the Basterds would be sneaking in after dark and camping out there while the meeting happened in a tavern across the street. She would then go to the tanner and a cafe to wait.

As far as makeup, she went through the works. A little rouge, mascara, eyeliner, and a light application of lipstick. She slipped into a navy blue halter dress with small white designs on it, the bodice wrapping from one side to the other and dropping low in the back. She had a small leather belt around her waist where the dress' seam sat, and the same cream gloves that she wore when they had learned of Hugo. She had made sure to take a dip in the river the night before so her bare skin didn't show the signs of hard travel. She was taking out her foundation to cover the scar on her arm when the flaps to her tent ruffled and a familiar hand was on her shoulders.

"You sure I can't come with you?"

"Yes, Donny, I'm sure. You'd be recognized in seconds."

He kissed her cheek. "Damn. I'd show you off on my arm."

"Oh, hush." She brushed the pad over the powder and then over her right bicep. "Aldo told you about what we're doing here?"

"Yeah."

"And this German actress? What do you think?"

"Not quite sure what to make of her. What about you?"

"I don't trust her for a second," Ella replied. "I don't want our officers in a tavern with her. I don't know what they're thinking, whether she's a spy or not, I don't care." She snapped the compact shut, reminding herself of Aldo and his snuffbox for a brief moment. "I tell you what, any of my men don't come out of there and I'm going to Churchill himself to complain."

"It might mean the end of the war if this whole theater thing turns out."

"Then it better turn out. I heard that Hans Landa is going, though. I'd like to watch him explode."

Donny laughed. "Me too, El. I just wanted to tell you to be careful out there. I don't like that you're going alone."

"Are you worried about me, Sergeant Donowitz?" she teased, reaching into her bag and pulling out a finely woven straw Panama boating hat. She had been waiting for the opportunity to wear it. It had a black band and ribbon falling down the back, and would go nicely with this dress, especially in the spring. She placed it lightly on her head, making sure not to press down on her hair too much.

"Maybe, maybe not." He shrugged.

"Oh, thanks for your concern," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "My boy Ace'll take care of me."

"He will. And you can take care of yourself."

"Yes sir, I can." She looked at the mirror in the compact once more, making sure everything was perfect. "I better go. Aldo's gonna get after me if I wait too long."

"Be careful."

"I will." She kissed him on the cheek and exited the tent in the same heels she had worn in Chateau-Thierry, her clutch purse tucked under her arm.

"Au revoir, men. See you tonight. Ace, come on, boy." She started towards the road, the fast-growing pup following closely, and from behind her, she heard Utivich - "Nice lipstick, Sarge," - and smirked.

* * *

After checking in with the veterinarian, Ella made her way to the General Store. They may not have what she was looking for, but they would know where to find it.

She opened the door and the bell rang, and two German soldiers turned to look at her. Paris was only fifteen minutes away by car, so it was perfectly normal to see them here in Nadine, but she was still a little startled. Ace's ear perked up - all of the Germans they had run into, he had helped terrorize.

"Ace, non," she murmured. "Bonjour," she said to the soldiers, giving a little curtsey before going up to the counter.

"Un moment," the clerk called from the back. Ella saw a tool that was used to make evenly-spaced holes in a belt on the counter, so she hoped that the leather shop was inside the store itself.

"Bonjour," a man said, coming from the hallway that led to the storage room. "Comment puis-je vous aider?" _(How may I help you?)_

"Bonjour. J'espérais que vous pourriez me dire où je pourrais obtenir un collier et une laisse pour mon chien." _(I was hoping you could tell me where I could get a collar and leash for my dog.)_

"Ah, vous avez le bon endroit, mon cherie!"_ (You have the right place, my dear!)_ "Je suis le tanneur. Est-ce l'animal?" _(I am the tanner. Is this the animal?)_

"Oui. Il est le chien de mon frère, mais mon compagnon de voyage." _(Yes, He is my brother's dog, but my travel companion.)_

"Un beau chien. J'ai un collier fait déjà depuis la semaine dernière, mais j'aurais besoin d'une heure ou deux pour couper et coudre la laisse." _(A handsome dog. I have a collar made already from last week, but I would need an hour or two to cut and sew the leash.)_

"Très bien, j'ai le temps. Y at-il un café voisin où je pouvais attendre?"_ (Very well, I have the time. Is there a cafe nearby where I could wait?)_

"Oui, juste autour du coin. Permettez-moi d'aller chercher le collier pour vous." _(Yes, just around the corner. Let me go get the collar for you.)_

Ella waited, taking a coin purse out of her clutch. The two soldiers behind her were chatting, something about meeting a man with a swastika carved into his head. She kept her head down but listened much more intently.

"Ja, sagte er, der Jude mit dem Schläger gerade erschienen. Einige sagen, er ist ein Golem. Ich würde es hassen, in die Arme laufen."

"Ein Golem?"

"Ja."

They were saying that the Jew with the bat appeared out of nowhere, and that people said he was a Golem, a shapeshifting being from Jewish folklore. Ella had to stifle laughter. The only shapeshifting Donny did was his belly when he drank beer and ate too much. She loved hearing these rumors.

The tanner came back out with a collar in his hand and Ella asked for a newspaper as well. He rang her up and she paid him, and as he counted out the money, she fastened the collar around the patient Ace's neck.

"Bon. Merci, Monsieur. Deux heures?" _(Two hours?)_

"Merci, Mademoiselle. Deux heures."

She smiled at him and turned to leave, making sure not to look at the two soldiers as she left. She would have started laughing.

At the cafe, she ushered Ace under the table at the insistence of the waitress and ordered a croissant. She had her nose buried deep in the newspaper when a finger tapped her shoulder. She jumped and looked up angrily at the offending finger's owner, but the look melted into pale shock when she recognized him.

The Gestapo Major standing in front of her, wearing a leather trenchcoat and his full uniform underneath, had a pleasant smile on his face. Any other situation and she would have had her PPK out and shot him through the eye already, but she was in a cafe, civilians going about their business around her, and she was helpless.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle. Je vous ai fait peur?" _(Good afternoon, Miss. Did I frighten you?)_

"Un peu. Mais je suis facilement effrayé." _(A little. But I am easily frightened.)_

"Je m'excuse sincèrement. Puis-je me présenter, je suis Major Dieter Hellstrom. Avez-vous l'esprit si j'ai un siège?" _(I sincerely apologize. May I introduce myself; I am Major Dieter Hellstrom. Do you mind if I have a seat?)_

"Bien sûr, Major."_ (Of course, Major.)_ She caught herself - a civilian would have called him Monsieur Hellstrom. She cursed herself for the mistake.

He pulled the chair across from her out and sat down. "Je ne me demandais, étant l'Allemagne, comment une jolie fille comme toi français est venu à posséder un animal comme ça."_ (I was only wondering, being from Germany, how a pretty French girl like yourself came to own an animal like that.)_ He pointed at Ace, whose collar Ella was holding onto for dear life. Not that he was going to leap at the Major, but Ella needed something to hang on to.

"Je ne possède pas, il est le chien de mon frère. Il lui a envoyé pour me garder sur mes voyages."_ (I do not own him, he is my brother's dog. He sent him to guard me on my travels.)_

"Ah! Eh bien, il est un beau chien. Où allez-vous voyager, Mademoiselle...?" _(Ah! Well, he is a handsome dog. Where are you traveling, Miss...?_)

"Oh! Excusez-moi. Mon nom est Elizabeth Silvestre. Pour Chartres. Mes grands-parents sont malades, et je dois aller à trier leur dernière affaires," she said, recalling the name that was on her French papers._ (Oh! Excuse me. My name is Elizabeth Silvestre. To Chartres. My grandparents are ill, and I must go to sort their last business.)_ The questioning was starting to get suspicious. If there was any way that the Major found her out, what they were calling 'Operation Kino' was over before it began.

"Je suis vraiment désolé. Où habitez-vous?" _(I am very sorry. Where do you live?_)

"Paris. Monsieur Hellstrom, si je peux me permettre, pourquoi me demandez-vous ces questions?"_ (Paris. Mister Hellstrom, if I may ask, why are you asking me these questions?)_ She asked this in her sweetest, most innocent voice possible.

"Pas de raison de s'alarmer. J'ai simplement ne vous ai jamais vu avant. Je suis venu vous demander si cette petite ville devaient disposer d'un nouveau résident." _(No reason to be alarmed. I simply have never seen you before. I came over to ask if this little town were to have a beautiful new resident.)_ He grinned widely, looking more like a shark than a person.

"Merci, Monsieur. Vous êtes très aimable. Je comprends." _(Thank you, sir. You are most kind. I understand.)_ The waitress brought over Ella's croissant and a pat of butter, asking if Ella would like another coffee. Ella nodded, and the girl left again.

"Bon. Je vais vous à votre journal et votre croissant partir, mais s'il vous plaît, si vous souhaitez me trouver après votre entreprise à Chartres, je suis normalement stationnées sur la base à Paris. Un homme comme moi serait fier d'avoir une fille comme vous sur son bras."_ (Good. I will leave you to your newspaper and your croissant, then, but please, if you would like to find me after your business in Chartres, I am normally stationed on the base in Paris. A man like me would be proud to have a girl like you on his arm.)_ He stood up, tapped his heels together, and strode out of the cafe.

When he was out of sight, Ella let out the deep breath she was holding and shuddered at the very thought of placing her hand in that man's arm. She was going to have to head back to the veterinarian's home earlier than she anticipated to wait for the men - there was no chance she was going to wait around and run into the Major again.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello again! I just want to thank you all - this story had officially passed a thousand views! Holy crap! Thanks to those who have reviewed, but there haven't been many recently...it would be awesome to hear from you guys. Anyways, it's getting intense. All characters are Tarantino's save for Ella. Enjoy!**

The British Lieutenant arrived at dusk. At first he looked at Ella like she was an alien, but then she pulled out her pistol from its thigh holster and the shining V-42 stiletto knife from her clutch. His eyebrows went up and he glanced down at Ace. He was skinny, more so than any army man Ella had seen in a long time. His light brown hair was carefully groomed and his face carefully shaven, and most people would call him dapper.

"Don't worry. He won't sic unless I say so."

"Comforting. Lieutenant Archie Hicox, ma'am." It came out sounding more like 'marm,' which Ella had missed since they left the base in England.

"Corporal Ella Demski." She saluted him back. "The men should be along in a few minutes. I have some information that might be important."

"I heard you were fluent in German as well."

"_Ja_, I am. I go in with the other Corporal in our unit to do reconnaissance in towns, so French as well."

"I see." It was easy to see that he was still skeptical about her, but she could honestly care less. All she wanted was for him and her men to come out of the tavern alive so the theater mission would be successful.

The last sunlight disappeared and within minutes there was a rap on the storm door. Ace ran down the stairs after Ella to meet them as the veterinarian unlocked the door. Wicki, Hugo, Aldo, Utivich, Omar, and Donny tumbled into the basement of the vet's place, the dogs that were staying overnight barking around them.

"Hello, boys. Good trip?"

Aldo shrugged. "Where's the Brit?"

"Upstairs. He's very…British."

"Let's head to the top floor. I wanna get a look at this place."

His men followed Aldo up to the second floor of the house, which had a window looking directly over the tavern where the meeting would be happening. Just from the way Aldo was speaking, Ella could tell he was more tense than for a normal mission.

"Aldo, I got some information," Ella said before he saw the location. She knew from the minute she saw it that morning that he would not be happy. Not in the slightest. She wanted to tell him what she needed to before he got preoccupied.

"What's 'at?"

"The Gestapo Major is in town. He said he's regularly stationed in Paris." She shuddered.

"Whoa, whoa," Donny said. "Was there a Nazi movin' in on my girl?"

"Um…yes, and maybe he was Major Dieter Hellstrom."

Aldo pursed his lips. "Fuck a duck!" Donny exclaimed, possibly loud enough to wake the entire block. "You know where he went? I'm gonna -"

"Hush, Donny! I just wanted to let you guys know. We have more important matters at hand. Wilhelm, do you have the uniforms?"

The other Corporal took a pack from his back and handed it to Ella, and she took out three uniforms that she had carefully folded the day before. Two Lieutenants and a Captain.

"All right. Wilhelm, here's yours - Lieutenant Saltzberg. Hugo, yours - Lieutenant Berlin. Do not think I miss the irony in that. If you want to switch, go ahead. The important thing is that Lieutenant Hicox plays the Captain." She handed the British Lieutenant his uniform, and the three of them went to the spare bedroom to change.

"Seriously, El, did he really say something to you?" Donny asked, quieter this time.

"He came over to me in the cafe and asked how I came to own Ace. I told him the story, you know, and then he said if I was ever back in Paris that he's stationed there and if I wanted to seek him out, 'a man like him would be proud to have a girl like me on his arm,' he said. Word for word. I said thank you, and he left me to my croissant."

Donny's face grew dark. "That son-of-a-bitch."

"Now, Donny, he didn't even know who I really am. If he did, he'd probably be repulsed. Remember, he liked Elizabeth Silvestre. Not Ella Demski."

Donny's face did not change. "Still."

"Go lie down," Ella said, pointing to the old twin-sized bed that was in the corner of the main room. "You're just winding yourself up."

"What in the sam hell!" Aldo shouted. _Oh boy_, Ella thought. _He saw La Louisiane._

"What the hell will my men be doing in a goddamn basement?" he growled at the door that shielded the British Lieutenant.

"Give me a moment," a voice came back. Ella was not excited for this confrontation.

"Aldo, don't. Calm down."

"I know, goddamnit," he huffed, shoving her hand from his shoulder. Just like when she handed him the canteen almost six years earlier. He was way too tense for this.

The three men emerged from the room, dressed in their German officer's uniforms. Hugo seemed right at home.

"You said you saw the Gestapo Major?" he asked in heavily accented English.

"Yes. Major Hellstrom. Do you know him?"

Hugo's face hardened. Ella took that as a yes.

"Don't think about him. Think about the information that Von Hammersmarck has." Ella quickly saw that she was holding this unit together at the moment. "Lieutenant, what's the deal with the tavern?" Aldo had gone to sit at the window, watching over the tavern. Wicki stood above him.

"Nothing's wrong with the tavern."

"You didn't say the goddamn rendezvous was in a fuckin' basement," Aldo growled.

"I didn't know," Hicox replied. Ella was ready to jump in if they got too angry. Who knew with men in tense situations.

"You said it was a tavern."

"Aldo, it is a tavern," Ella added softly.

"Yeah. In a basement. You know, fightin' in a basement offers a number of difficulties. Number one being, you're fightin' in a basement," Aldo retorted.

"What if she doesn't show?" Wicki murmured, keeping his eyes out on the street.

"She'll show. She's a British spy. She'll make the rendezvous." The men were getting defensive. Ella threw her hands up and went over to the bed where Donny had actually gone to put his feet up.

"Got a little room, Sarge?"

"For you, maybe." He scooted over so he was almost teetering off the edge, but it made room for Ella to sit down, still in her dress. She pulled a cigarette out of her purse, fumbling for a match. Donny held two fingers up and snapped, a small flame bursting from the match between them.

"Trying to impress the lady, I see," she said, leaning up to the flame and taking a drag.

"Is it working?"

"Might just be," she replied coyly. Hicox returned from the room where Hugo was sharpening his terrifyingly large knife. Aldo flicked open his snuffbox and the two of them mumbled back and forth. At least Aldo had stopped yelling. Ella felt her eyelids begin to droop. She shook her head violently in an attempt to wake up a little.

"You can rest, y'know. You've been workin' longer than the rest of us." Donny reached up and rubbed her back lightly. That certainly wasn't helping her stay awake.

"Not before the men leave. Once they go, sure."

"That's fine, because we're going," Hicox said, straightening his jacket. Hugo joined them and they went to the main level, where the veterinarian was reading in his armchair.

"We're off, Henry," Hicox said, giving a little salute. Henry just nodded and went back to reading. Ella looked at Hugo and Wicki, dressed in Nazi uniforms, their faces blank.

"You're smart men. Be careful down there. I want you back up here." She kissed both of them on both cheeks like a European, and saluted. They saluted back, turning to Aldo and Donny with the same.

Once they were out the door, the soldiers left inside stood in the hall awkwardly.

"You don't feel good about this one, do you, Ella?" Utivich said, furrowing his brow.

"Not one bit."

Having nothing else to do, the went back upstairs and resumed what they were doing before, only Ella laid down next to Donny instead. "Wake me if anything happens. I mean anything."

"Don't worry, doll. I will." He slipped an arm around her and she turned over to face him, placing a hand on his chest.

* * *

Gunfire woke her.

"No, no, no," she moaned as the whole room jumped into action. She flipped off of the bed and as Aldo darted past, she snatched up her rifle that was leaning against the windowsill. Donny launched himself over the wrought iron footboard and drew his pistol, leaping down the stairs. Aldo was at the door already, holding the knob.

"El, the grenades," he said before she came down the stairs. "Omar, Smithson, stay put and get the downstairs ready," he ordered, referring to the veterinarian's surgery in the basement. "You two, come with me. Be quiet about it. No running in guns blazing. Let's go."

Ella's heart thudded in her throat. They darted across the street and crowded into the stairs above the tavern.

"El, don't prime one of those yet, but be ready to toss one quick." She nodded, trying to take deep breaths.

Aldo creaked the door open and was met with fifty rounds of machine gun fire. He jumped back.

"You! Outside! Who are you? British, American, what?" came a haggard, German-accented voice from the tavern. Ella groaned. That did not bode well.

"We're American," Aldo called back, but not too loudly. "What're you?"

"I'm a German, you idiot."

"You speak English pretty good for a German."

"I agree. So let's talk."

"Sounds young," Ella murmured. Aldo and Donny nodded.

"I'm a father. My baby was born today in Frankfurt. Five hours ago. We were in here drinking, celebrating, they're the ones that came in shooting and killing! It's not my fault!" the young German cried.

"Okay, okay, it wasn't your fault. What's your name, soldier?"

"Wilhelm."

Ella pursed her lips.

"Okay, Wilhelm. Anyone alive on our side?"

"I'm alive!"

Of course it was Bridget von Hammersmarck. The German started shouting at her.

"Willy, who is that?" Aldo called.

"The girl on your side?"

"Regrettably," Ella grumbled. She was getting anxious to get to her men.

"Yeah, she's ours," Aldo sighed.

Wilhelm spat more German at Bridget, saying something about running with the Americans now. "She's been shot!" he told Aldo.

"Okay, Willy, here's my deal. You let me and my men come down there and take the girl away. No guns me, no guns you. You go your way, we go ours, and Max gets to grow up playing catch with his Daddy. Simple as that." Ella knew it was bullshit, that Wilhelm was never going to leave that tavern, but sweet-talking him was vital.

After a little more convincing, Wilhelm agreed. Aldo started to head down but stopped.

"Hey, Willy, what's with the machine gun? I thought we had a deal," Aldo said. Ella had a grenade in her hand, ready to edge around Aldo and bomb the place.

"We do have a deal. Take the girl and go."

Bridget said something to him, and suddenly there was another shot.

"Help," she called weakly. That was their all-clear. Ella stuffed the grenade back in the bag and rushed after Aldo down the stairs. She paused at the carnage, her breath catching. The first man she saw was the one with Stiglitz's knife through the base of his neck, whom she definitely recognized. It was Major Hellstrom. What the hell he was doing here, she had no idea. But he was stone dead, and at least Hugo got to do it.

Wicki lay under the stairs, and Ella crouched over him. She put a hand to his bloody neck, knowing that she wouldn't find a pulse. With a deep sigh, Ella reached under his jacket and slipped his dog tags from his neck. "Goddamnit, Aldo -"

"Don't you say shit, El, we gotta take care of them and get outta here. Donny, get the Brit's tags, and El, get Hugo's and go spot up top. We gotta get back to the vet's house."

Ella knelt next to Hugo and took his tags as well. "Donny?"

"Yeah?"

"Hugo took care of the Major for you," she said, gesturing to the man that was stuck to the table.

"Well, shit."

Ella stood with the tags, grasping the handle of Hugo's dagger and yanking it free from the wood and the Major's spine. She gingerly took the sheath from Hugo's belt, wiping the dagger off and slipping it back into the leather. There was a cry as Aldo lifted Bridget. A bullet hole gaped in her calf, an entry wound but no exit. Good. There was leverage for interrogation. There was blood on Ella's dress now, but she didn't care. She had others.

"_Auf Wiedersehen, meine Brüder_." And she headed up the stairs to see if the street was clear.

**A/N: If you didn't feel like looking that up...it means, "Goodbye, my** **brothers."**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hey guys, late again. I flew home for the first time since January on Tuesday so it's been a crazy week so far! But here's chapter 12, and I hope you enjoy!**

Back in the basement of the veterinarian's house, Ella watched Henry inject Bridget with a painkiller, and he reached for a pair of long-nosed tweezers.

"Hang on, Doc," Ella said stepping up to the exam table and throwing the little tray with surgical tools across the room. She leaned in close to Bridget, who was biting her fist in pain. Ella had never been more angry in her life, and she made sure to show it.

"What the fuck happened to my men?"

Bridget looked at her, confused.

"I know you fuckin' speak English so you had better tell me what the fuck happened down there or I swear to God I will try and hack that leg off myself."

"Corporal," Donny said, laying a hand on her shoulder and calling her by her rank so Bridget knew that she wasn't just some girl yelling at her. "Let the Lieutenant ask the questions."

"Jesus Christ, two of our officers are dead down there and funny fuckin' thing, the German actress is the only one to make it out," Ella almost shouted. Her hair was falling out of its ponytail and her hands, knees, and face were all smattered with blood. "Ace, down," she huffed. The dog was pawing at her leg, sensing the distress.

"Hang back, Ella." Aldo came into the exam room. "Now, before we yank that slug outta yer gam, you need to answer a few questions."

"About what?" Bridget gasped.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Ella stared at the actress, her hands on her hips. "You're that dumb?"

"Corporal," Aldo warned. Donny took Ella gently by the arm and steered her away from the exam table.

"She's right, though. How about I got three dead men back there. Now why don't you tell us what the fuck happened down there?"

"The British soldier blew his cover, and the Gestapo Major saw it."

"'Fore we get to that, why did you invite my men to a rendezvous in a basement with a bunch of Nazis?"

"I can see that since you didn't see what happened inside, the Nazis being there must look odd."

"Yeah, we got a word for that kinda odd in English. It's called suspicious." Aldo took his index finger and poked it into the hole in her leg, like a kid who had just found a curious new toy. Bridget shrieked, leaning over the edge of the exam table. Donny moved over to the other side of the table. Ella knew that he wasn't a big fan of vomit, though he would never tell the men that.

"You are letting your imagination get the better of you, Lieutenant," Bridget choked out. "You met the Sergeant, Willy. You remember him, don't you? His wife had a baby tonight. He had just become a father! His commanding officer gave him and his mates the night off to celebrate. The Germans being there was either a trap set by me or a tragic coincidence. It cannot be both," she gasped.

Aldo slowly pulled his finger from the bullet wound. The story was consistent, but Ella wasn't going to let it go. "How'd the shooting start?" Her voice was lower, calmer.

"The Englishman gave himself away."

"How did he do that?" Bridget was really getting on Ella's nerves by not just getting to the point.

"He ordered three glasses," she said, holding up her first three fingers. "We order three glasses. The other looks odd." She held up her first two fingers and thumb. Ella recognized it - she had seen Wicki do it, as well as German soldiers in the cafes. She closed her eyes in exasperation.

"El?" Aldo said, looking at her.

"It's true. I've seen it in town before. Wicki did it like that, too." She rubbed her temple. How could Hicox have been such a supposed aficionado on German culture, and made a stupid mistake like that in front of a Gestapo officer?

"Okay, so let's say there were no Germans. Everything went as planned. What's the next step?"

Ella let them talk. She sat in the chair in the corner, beckoning Ace over. All that was left of the Basterds were Utivich, Omar, Hirschberg back at camp, Donny, Aldo, and herself. If this war didn't end soon, she was going to lose more people she loved. And she didn't want to handle that.

Then Bridget's words brought her out of her thoughts: _"The Furher is attending the premiere."_

Ella jumped up. "Holy shit!"

"Fuck-a-duck!" Donny exclaimed at the same time. There was no choice now - they had to carry out the plan. Aldo started pacing. This was his thinking face, and Ella knew he was coming up with something.

"I'm thinking that getting a whack at Uncle Adolf makes this a horse of a different color," he mused.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're getting us in that premiere."

Ella looked over at him slowly. There was no way…

"I'm probably going to end up losing this leg! Bye bye, acting career. Fun while it lasted. I don't think I'll be tripping the light fantastique up the red carpet anytime soon!" Bridget snapped. The morphine was kicking in.

"The doggie doc's gonna dig that slug outta yer gam. He's gonna wrap it up in a cast and you got a good broke-your-leg-mountain-climbing story. Y'all like climbing mountains don't you?" Aldo was getting more excited the more he talked the plan out, pulling out his snuff box and filling both nostrils. But Ella knew where it was going.

"No, I like smoking, drinking, and ordering in restaurants. But I see your point."

"We fill ya up with morphine 'til it's comin' outta your ears, and you'll limp your little ass up that rouge carpet."

Bridget sighed. "I know this is a silly question before I ask it, but do you Americans speak any other language than English?"

Ella snorted. "Believe me, I tried. I'm the only one that's fluent in anything else."

"Hey, El, I speak Yiddish!" Donny interjected.

"Yeah, me too!" Utivich said from the corner.

"Because that's going to help," she retorted.

Donny rolled his eyes. "We both speak a little Italian, though," he said, gesturing to Aldo.

"With an atrocious accent, no doubt." Bridget paused. "But that doesn't exactly kill us in the crib. Germans don't have a good ear for Italian. So you mumble Italian and brazen through it...is that the plan?"

"That's about it," Aldo replied.

"It sounds good," she said. Ella didn't have the heart to tell her that Aldo's accent wasn't atrocious - it was nonexistent.

"It sounds like shit, but what else are we gonna do? Go home?"

"No. It sounds good."

"I speak the most Italian, so I'll be your escort. Donny here speaks second most, so he'll be your Italian cameraman. Omar, you speak third most, so you'll be his assistant."

"I don't speak Italian," Omar said, confused.

"Like I said, third most. Just keep your mouth shut. In fact, why don't you start practicing right now."

Ella stared angrily at Aldo. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Lieutenant?"

"Ella Demski, you are not going on this mission."

Her stomach fell like a ton of bricks. "Don't you dare tell me that, Aldo Raine. Don't you say that you're going to strap bombs to your legs and leave me like that." For the first time since that day in Montana, she felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. The plan before the massacre in the tavern was for Wicki, Hugo, and Hicox to go in and be the ones with dynamite on their legs, and Ella had come to terms that her two officers weren't coming out of that theater. But not Aldo. And certainly not Donny.

"Corporal, those are your orders. I won't hear anything else about it."

"Aldo, I ain't got no family except you and Donny. Please don't take both away from me. Let Donny be my escort. You know my Italian accent is better than both of yours."

"What did I just say, Corporal?" Aldo's face was stern, but his eyes betrayed him. He knew full well what he was doing to her. She stared him down, and when the first tear fell from her right eye, he had to look away.

"Yes, sir. Ace, come." Ella brushed past Aldo and took the stairs two at a time to the top floor, making sure to stay away from the window in case police were investigating the tavern. She went into the room where Wicki and Hugo had changed just hours earlier and sat heavily on the bed. Ace hopped up beside her, putting a paw on her leg. She turned to the dog and buried her face in his fur.

**_Donny_**

"You just killed her, Lieutenant. You know she'd die for this cause, why are you making her stay behind?" Donny and Aldo were on the main level of the house, waiting for the veterinarian to pull the bullet out of Bridget so they could leave.

"She's got a future, Donny. She's staying, an' that's final." Aldo knew the guilt would eat at him until the day he died - which may very well be less than 24 hours away - but better to sacrifice himself than end her life so prematurely.

"So it's better to take her family away from her? Again? You know perfectly well what happened to her parents."

"Donny, I fuckin' know. She saved my goddamn life when we met, and now it's my turn. _She is not going._ Now go spend some time with her before we gotta get to business."

Donny shot Aldo a look. "Don't come up unless it's an emergency. She might kill you if you do."

* * *

Donny slowly climbed the stairs and entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He had no intention of letting anyone interrupt them. He went to kneel in front of Ella, who had her arms around Ace.

"El, I tried to talk him into it. He won't budge."

"I know he won't," she mumbled. "I wanna rip his head off."

"I don't blame you." He placed his hands on her thighs. "I kinda do too. But he said he wants you to carry on. He said you saved his life, and now it's his turn. Whatever that means."

She sighed. "The day we met, he almost got lynched for killing the sherriff's son. He ran into me running from the mob, so I had him hide and sent them the other way. Took care of his throat and we've been partners ever since. He thinks he's returning the favor but if I live through this war, after tomorrow, I'm going to be alone." She shook her head. "I don't think he gets it."

"He does, El. He knows how hard it'll be on you. But before that happens, he told me to come up here and spend some time with you, and I don't want to talk about that jerk anymore." He cupped her face in his hands. "I've met beautiful women before, and I'm pretty much the one that does the charming stuff. All this handsome, you know. You're a strange woman, Ella Demski, but you've made me fall in love with you, and if I die tomorrow I just want you to know that." He was by no means a master wordsmith, but it was all he had. And Ella understood, because she laid her forehead against his.

"Don't cry, doll. C'mere." He kissed her again, and Ella's stomach fluttered. Without looking she tapped Ace's hindquarters so he jumped off the bed and tugged at Donny's jacket.

"Uh oh, I created a monster," he said huskily.

"I believe you did, Donny." In only a few seconds, his jacket and shirt were gone, thrown somewhere on the floor. He ran a hand up her leg, which Ella had painstakingly shaved the night before going to Nadine. One of her hands ran through his thick hair and pulled ever so slightly. A heady growl came from deep in his chest. He pulled her up to stand and fumbled to get her dress over her head.

"Wait," she said, out of breath. She pulled away from him only for a second, taking the few steps to the door. "Ace, out," she whispered, cracking the door open. The confused dog took his sweet time leaving the room, but she swung the door shut again and felt Donny's arms encircle her from behind. She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him hard. Goosebumps covered her when he ran his fingertips over her bare skin. They had to make up for a lifetime of passion in one night, an impossible feat, but they were going to try their damndest.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: So chapter 13 comes in a little late, but I'm back home now, so things should be back on schedule! We're getting down to it - and 13 is indeed an unlucky number for the Corporal.**

It had taken another four hours to brace and cast up Bridget's leg, and by the time they had snuck into the hotel in Paris not five blocks from the theater, it was almost five o'clock in the morning. Hirschberg had gone ahead and gotten the room late the night before as planned, making a few trips with Bridget's car to move the Basterds' gear. He was deemed the runner for the mission - he was to fetch the makeup and things needed for Bridget's makeup and hair (with Ella as beautician) as well as her dress, and he was to chauffeur the men to their tuxedo fittings. There was a real chauffeur for that evening at least, but Hirschberg didn't hesitate in letting the men know how much he hated his job.

The room was luxurious because Bridget had supplied the funds. A king-size bed was in the bedroom and then there was a lounge, separated by double doors. Bridget immediately laid down on the couch and fell asleep, her leg propped up on a pillow.

"All right, four hours to sleep. Utivich and Hirschberg, you get the couch and chairs, you fight over 'em for yourselves. We get the bed," Aldo grumbled.

Ella, now dressed in her swing pants and khaki shirt, took her heels off as soon as they were inside and ushered Ace into the room. She'd had three hours of sleep in the last 36 hours, and after the day in Nadine, the tavern massacre, and a few hours with Donny, she was exhausted. She went into the bedroom and flopped down in the middle of the bed. If she knew Donny and Aldo, they would rather sleep on the floor than next to each other, so she put herself between them. The bed was big enough.

Donny was about to follow her in when Aldo mumbled something to him. Ella saw him nod, and sit down in a chair. She hadn't spoken to Aldo since he had given her the orders to stay behind, and she didn't know how this was going to go. She had never been madder at that man over the course of nearly six years.

Aldo came in and shut the double glass doors behind him. "El, I'm sorry."

She took a deep breath. As mad as she was, her reaction earlier was knee-jerk and a little selfish. "I know, Aldo."

"I just can't put dynamite on my girl. You saved my life, Ella. I can't give you the order to die."

She got up off the bed and went over to him. "I understand, Aldo. You're my brother. I won't make you do that." She wrapped her arms around his torso in a tight she was a little girl, her ultimate comfort was running to her father and blocking out the world with his strong arms around her, her face in his chest, feeling his ribs expand and contract as he breathed. The tears started to come again, and she sniffled.

"Aw, Ella, don't do that." Aldo kissed the top of her head. "We gotta get to sleep."

She nodded, slowly parting from him. There was still a lot to do - and sleep was the most important thing. The bed was so inviting. She took back her middle spot and groaned.

"It feels exquisite to lay down."

Aldo moved over to the end table after waving Donny inside, taking off his jacket and overshirt. "From what I heard earlier, you were doin' plenty of layin' down with the Sarge."

Her jaw dropped and she hit him with a pillow as hard as she could. "Aldo Raine, I am gonna -"

"Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep."

"Still gonna push you off this bed."

* * *

Four hours later, Ella felt Aldo roll off of the bed beside her. At least he had stopped snoring. She had only slept lightly, knowing the day that lay ahead of them was going to be a long one. She snuggled up to Donny a little more, hoping just a little that Aldo would let them sleep in a bit longer.

Of course, what he did was grab the blanket and yank it off of the bed. Donny's eyes flew open.

"What the hell, Lieutenant?"

"Wakey wakey," Aldo mumbled, just as sleepy. "Gotta go get our tuxes."

Aldo turned his back, and Donny gave Ella a quick kiss. She couldn't help but giggle.

"I better not be hearin' that."

"Too bad, Aldo Raine." Ella rolled onto her back, stretching. She hadn't slept on a bed in a long time. It was almost uncomfortable after getting used to a thin bedroll and the ground. Donny suddenly flipped on top of her, a devilish smile on his face as he nuzzled her nose and kissed her again.

"Sergeant!" Aldo barked, coming back from waking up the others. "Go get dressed, goddamnit!"

Ella laughed as Donny hopped up from the bed, winking at her.

"El, you're gonna start doing Bridget's hair and makeup. We gotta go get fitted. Give her that Co-whatchacallit. Make sure she can get up and moving."

"Yes, sir. Bridget?" Ella went into the lounge and knelt next to the couch. "Bridget, wake up. Time to get ready."

The actress groaned. Ella reached for the table behind her and grabbed the pill bottle Aldo had set out. Inside were a bunch of pills and a hastily scribbled note from the veterinarian - 1 every 4 hours - and asked Omar for a glass of water. "One second, Bridget. I've got some -" she looked back at the bottle - "Codeine for you. It'll help with your leg."

"Scheiße," she moaned. "Warum ist es so früh?" _(Why is it so early?)_

"Ich bin auch müde. Wir müssen bereit für die Premiere," Ella answered. _(I'm tired too. We must get ready for the premiere.)_

"You speak German?" The woman sounded incredulous.

"Yes, and French, and English. Now take this. You might not be so grumpy."

"We're going, El," Donny said, standing next to her. "Aldo said we're coming back after the fitting so you can do hair and whatever."

"Yeah, I'll at least make you look like gentlemen," she teased. "Hurry back." The four men left the hotel room, and then it was just Bridget and Ella.

"I'm sorry," Bridget mumbled.

"Don't worry. I understand. Let's order up some breakfast and we'll get started. Hirschberg should be back with your dress soon. Drink that water. If I've learned anything over the past three years, it's to stay hydrated." After ordering two plates of eggs and bacon, Ella went to her pack and got out her own makeup and a dress she hadn't worn yet. She'd actually been a little scared to wear this one because it was so…red. But if it was going to be her last time seeing Donny, then she was going to wear it.

"Are you and the Sergeant an item?" Bridget asked, setting down the now-empty glass.

"You could say that," Ella said with a small smile. "But technically he's still my commanding officer. They haven't had to make rules about that yet." Ella paused. "Bridget, I'm sorry about last night. I was angry about things not going according to plan, and then I figured out that Aldo and Donny were going to take their place. Sometimes I let my temper get away from me."

"It's all right. Losing your men must be hard, I cannot imagine."

"It is." Ella couldn't keep the sorrow out of her voice. "I knew they were supposed to use the bombs today, but I wasn't quite ready."

Just then, Hirschberg came back and knocked on the door with Bridget's dress. Ella let him in with the sparkling thing on the hanger taller than he was.

"You know I hate this, right?" he grumbled.

"Yes, Private, I do. Now please head back to where the Lieutenant and Donny are to pick them up when their fitting is done."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, sir. I'll be right back with the gentlemen," he said, and bowed.

"Oh, shut up, Hirschberg, and go get them. I have to make everyone pretty, remember?"

He laughed at her. "Good luck with that." And he headed back out the door. Ella slammed it after him and brought Bridget her dress. "Would you like to change now? I can help if you want. You'll probably need it."

"Ja, bitte." Bridget stood gingerly on the cast. "I can sit still until it is time to go." Ella laid the dress on the couch and helped Bridget out of her skirt and silky shirt. It may have been a little odd, since they had known each other less than twenty-four hours, but they were both women.

"Forgive me if this seems rude, but you are the Wölfin, are you not?"

"I don't mind. Yes, that's me. I suppose I earned that one."

"And that is your kleiner Wolf?" Bridget asked, nodding towards Ace.

"Yeah, Ace is my little wolf," Ella said, smiling. "Wow, this is quite the dress."

"I agree. I must impress the Nazis."

Ella helped her step into the dress, and she slowly shimmied it on. There was no zipper, but by the time Ella had helped Bridget get the straps over her shoulders, it was quarter to eleven. The food had arrived and they ate after Ella put curlers in Bridget's hair. then it was Ella's turn to get dressed and ready.

In front of the dazzlingly clean mirror, Ella paused. Her hair was still in messy curls from the day before and dark circles surrounded her eyes from lack of sleep. For a moment she almost threw the dress on the ground and went back to bed, but the thought of Donny and Aldo dressing up in those tuxes made her strip down to her underthings and slip into the red fabric.

"Can't have them outdoing me, now, can I?" she murmured. The makeup was becoming familiar, and after taking a towel and hot water to her face, she reapplied it once more. She pulled back her hair and tied it in a half-ponytail to keep it somewhat tidy. the dress had wide straps that fell just on the curve of Ella's shoulders and wrapped around to become the bodice, dropping low in the front and creating a 'v' on her back. The smooth fabric fell just past her knees and clung to her like a second skin, and with her fresh-from-boot-camp hourglass figure, Ella could have gone to the premiere in Bridget's place if she was blonde. She had never felt more like a movie star. There would be no PPK pistol on her leg tonight - all she could do was wait. And she could already imagine that it would drive her nuts.

When she was finally slipping her feet into the alligator-skin heels, the door to the hotel room opened and men's voices filled the space again. After one more look in the mirror - more of an attempt to calm her heart than to check her appearance - Ella left the bathroom. After all of Bridget's and her preparations, it was 2:15PM.

A low whistle met her first. Suddenly her nerves were gone, because her men were back. As stupid as they could be sometimes.

"Shut up, Hirschberg, or I'll have you doing pushups until I feel like ordering supper. If I were Donny, he'd have you doing them for the rest of your life."

"Yes'm," he replied, snapping off a salute.

The double doors opened behind them. "Speak of the devil," Ella said as Aldo and Donny came out from the bedroom. Donny stood slackjawed for a moment while Aldo just asked, "Who, me?"

"Naw, him." Ella sauntered over to Donny and kissed his cheek. "You boys get your tuxes?"

"Yeah. Mine's the white jacket. Hirschberg tell you that you're on beautician duty?"

"Yes, Aldo. I'll try my best. But we'll have dinner first. Sort out what y'all want and I'll order. The bellboy from breakfast knows my as Bridget's personal assistant."

"Y'all," Donny teased, regaining his voice. "You're beautiful, doll."

Ella blushed, her cheeks matching her dress for a moment. "Thanks, Sarge."

* * *

In three hours, Ella got everyone fed, helped the men into the tuxedos and straightened them out, combed and parted their hair, put makeup over the scar on Aldo's neck, dosed Bridget with more Codeine, took Ace outside twice, and stashed all of the equipment. It was this busy work that helped her stay calm with the impending doom of the two men she loved the more looming over her shoulder. Hirschberg and Utivich, both of whom would be waiting with her in the hotel room during the mission, watched her buzz everywhere with fascination. But before long, it was time for Aldo, Donny, and Omar to leave with Bridget

"Okay, guys, say your names one more time," she sighed. Throughout the afternoon, she had been trying to coach them in their Italian. She was very close to giving up.

"En-so Gor-La-Me," Aldo enunciated.

Ella put her face in her hands. "Hopeless. Don't hit the consonants so hard. Donny?"

"AnTOnio MargarEY-ti."

"Relax a little more. Don't push the words as much. Omar?"

"Dominic Decocco."

"That was actually really close to perfect. Listen to this guy."

Ella stood and adjusted Donny's white bow tie one more time while the others went through the game plan. Really, she was just stalling, trying to think of ways to keep them from going anywhere. He looked extremely handsome in his tux, with a white carnation just above his pocket kerchief and a pair of white gloves ready in his hand. It was a little different from the Donny that Ella had fallen in love with, but from the amount of curses coming from his mouth, it was still him inside that tuxedo.

"Lookin' good, Sarge," she murmured.

There wasn't much Donyn could say. Instead, he reached up and undid the small gold clasp at the nape of his neck. The small gold pendant was the one he'd received from his grandfather at his Bar Mitzvah and had his hebrew name in tiny vertical black letters. He stepped behind Ella and fumbled the clasp closed again.

"Somethin' to remember me by. Y'know."

Ella faced him, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I don't really know what love feels like, Donny, but I think this is it," she intoned low enough so the other men couldn't hear.

"Good." He pulled her up to kiss him. She softly took his clean-shaven face in her hands, her thumb tracing along his jawline.

"Sergeant, it's time to head out," Aldo said gently. They couldn't be late, but he knew he had to let his girl say goodbye.

Ella strode over to Aldo once she had let go of Donny and threw her arms around him like she had that morning, careful not to get makeup on his white jacket but hugging him with everything she had.

"I love you, brother," she mumbled into his chest.

"Love you too, El. You'll always be my girl."

With that, Ella stepped back and looked at the party. Bridget's eyes were wet, maybe because of the heartfelt goodbyes. Hirschberg was looking anywhere but at her. No matter what, though, Ella was their Corporal, and they were her soldiers.

"Good luck, men," she said, standing at attention and bringing her hand to her temple in a salute. Aldo held back a smile and the two men returned the salute. Before it became any more painful, the Lieutenant opened the door and left. Donny glanced back at Ella once, and then they were gone.

She couldn't hold it back anymore. She put her face in her hands and let out a sob. Utivich put his arm around her, a little bit of a stretch since in her heels, she was an inch taller than him. He steered her to a lounge chair and sat her down, and that's where she stayed.

Until the door was kicked in.

**A/N: I hope you guys like the cliff you're sitting on! See you in a few days!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hello! I'm back with chapter 14! Enjoy!**

Things started to move in slow motion. As she stood, Ella reached over to the end table and grabbed Hugo's knife. No one was supposed to be coming or going from that door, and her instinct kicked in. When she turned to face the door, she was immediately dismayed. No less than six gestapo soldiers poured into the room. And all each of the three remaining Basterds had was a knife.

"Ace, get!" she shouted, not wanting them to shoot the dog. He hesitated, then darted into the bedroom. Ella faced the Nazis, the dagger in her hand. She promptly threw the dagger at the closest soldier and jumped forward to retrieve it. A shot echoed in the hotel room. Ella yanked the dagger out of the soldier's throat and whipped around to see where the bullet came from and where it went.

"Hirschberg!"

He was bent in half, his hands over his stomach, trying to staunch the blood escaping from his torso. The same Nazi that had fired took a step closer to him and shot him between the eyes.

"No!" Ella shouted, staring down at her fallen man. The distraction proved enough for the remaining soldiers to wrestle Ella and Utivich into submission.

"Klar, Oberführer," one of them called. Ella's eyes went wide as she fought against the man holding her arms. She looked over to Utivich, who was in the same position, and mouthed, "Landa." He stopped struggling and returned the stunned look.

Before they could even think, a heavy pair of boots made their way into the room. Ella looked up at the man in grey, and it was exactly who she thought it would be. Colonel Hans Landa was standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face.

"It looks like we hit the jackpot." He stepped over to Ella. "I think I know who you are."

Ella drew herself to her full height, held her shoulders back, and looked him in the eye. With her heels, she almost matched Colonel Landa, but with her hands being held behind her back, all she could do was stare him down.

"You must be the famous Wölfin."

"And you are the Jew Hunter."

"I must say, you are quite a bit prettier than I imagined. Usually brutish violence does not come from one so...young."

Ella laughed. Even at the worst possible moment for her, she laughed. "Ah, Colonel, you have severely underestimated me."

"You find this funny?" He didn't look angry, but curious.

"You are lucky you didn't offend me. The last man who did that came away…" She searched for the right word. "...Damaged. I'm sure you met him."

"I doubt you are in the position to damage me. Quite the opposite, actually." The look in his eyes sent a spark of unease through Ella. This man was crazy. Cunning, surely charming in any other situation, very intelligent, and crazy. He was close to her, too close for her to be entirely comfortable. That unease grew when he let his eyes wander over her figure, still clad in the red dress she had saved for Donny's last day.

Ella lurched forward, her forehead colliding with the Colonel's nose. The soldier holding her loosened his grip on her wrists in shock, and she made the best of it, turning with her momentum and throwing a punch at his face as hard as she could. She felt his fragile ocular cavity crunch a little under her knuckles, but it wasn't enough. Another soldier grabbed her around the waist and threw her to the ground. When he hauled her to her feet, she smiled at the Colonel's attempt to stop the bleeding from his broken nose.

"I beg to differ, Colonel. You kill one of my men and I will take every opportunity to hurt you."

"Cuff them, hood them, and get them out of here. Then take me to the theater. I have more work to do." The Colonel gave Ella a death glare as she was cuffed, and then she could only see the blackness of her hood.

* * *

Ace managed to scoot out the door behind the SS soldiers and follow them to the truck that they threw his Ella and Utivich into. The vehicle started to drive away and the dog took off after it, desperate to stay close to the girl that took him in. His claws clacked on the cobblestone street for the five blocks it took to get to the cinema, and then he settled in to wait.

* * *

Ella felt the truck come to a stop, and figured that they'd come to the cinema. She had no idea, however, of what they were doing there.

"Utivich?"

"Yes sir?"

"Oh, cut that out. Whatever happens after this, I wouldn't have done a damn thing differently. I couldn't ask for a better unit. So, thanks."

Utivich was quiet for a minute. "I didn't want it to end like this, though, Corporal."

"Some things we can't help. We have to roll along with what we get. And right now we happen to have hoods over our heads in the back of a Nazi truck. But we killed more of those fuckers than anyone else, and we terrorized the fuck out of them the entire time, so I think we did what we were sent in to do."

Utivich chuckled, a sad, conceded sound. "You sound like Donny and the Lieutenant combined."

"Good. I'll take nothing less."

The doors to the back of the truck flung open and another body was thrown in with them. From all the hollering, Ella could guess who it was.

"Aldo?"

"Ella," Aldo said, resigned. "I was hoping it wasn't you."

"And Utivich." She paused. "Is it just you?"

"Yup."

Ella hung her head. The truck started up again and they bounced along the uneven streets for ten minutes before stopping. The doors opened and they were hauled out of the back and into a building. Ella could hardly even see shadows through the hood, but she could tell when they were lined up against a wall.

"Lieutenant Aldo Raine, I presume?" came Landa's calm voice.

"Hans Landa," Aldo said, the name sounding ridiculous with the Tennessee accent.

"You've had a good long run, Aldo. Alas, you're now in the hands of the SS. My hands, to be exact. And they've been waiting a long time to touch you," Landa sneered. Ella heard him tap Aldo's nose. "Caught you flinching," Landa teased.

Ella heard a familiar thud, and Landa exclaimed "Nicht schon wieder!" _(not again!)_ under his breath. She laughed again, and was not prepared when the knee of an SS soldier met her stomach.

"Nein!" Landa ordered. "Nehmen Sie sie dort." _(Take them over there._) Wheezing, Ella stumbled where she was directed.

"Okay, El?" Aldo murmured.

"Gimme a minute. Yeah."

They were sat at a table and their hoods were yanked off. Ella could see again, but with stars in her vision for a few more seconds. She hadn't been prepared for that blow at all, and she was cursing herself for that. Landa sat across from them at the table, which had a phone, a bottle of wine, and four glasses on it.

"Oh, Christ, another tavern," Ella grumbled.

Ignoring her, Landa turned to Aldo. "Tell me, Aldo, if you were sitting where I am, would you show me mercy?"

Aldo shook his head slowly. "Nope."

"What's the English expression about shoes and feet?"

"Looks like the shoe's on the other foot. I was just thinkin' that."

Landa dismissed the soldiers and looked at his prisoners, pride easily readable in his maniacal eyes. "So you're Aldo the Apache."

"And yer' the Jew Hunter."

"I'm a detective. A damn good detective. Finding people is my specialty, so naturally, I worked for the Nazis finding people. And yes, some of them were Jews, but Jew Hunter? Just a name that stuck."

"You have to admit, it is pretty catchy," Utivich said conversationally.

"Do you control the nicknames your enemies bestow on you? Aldo the Apache, The She-Wolf, The Little Man?"

Utivich hesitated. "What do you mean, The Little Man?"

Landa shrugged. "The Germans' nickname for you."

"Their nickname for me is The Little Man?" He looked at Ella, who had gotten her breath back.

"Sorry, Private. Hadn't the heart to tell you."

"As if to make my point, I'm a bit surprised at how tall you are in real life. You're a little fellow but not circus-midget little as your reputation suggests," Landa continued. "And I was telling your little _Luder_ here that with a nickname like She-wolf, she turned out to be quite the beautiful young woman. Not what I expected."

"Where's my men? Where's Bridget von Hammersmarck?" Aldo interrupted.

"Let's just say she got what she deserved. When you purchase friends like Bridget von Hammersmarck, you get what you pay for." The look of disgust on his face was palpable. Ella enjoyed every second of it.

"Now as far as your Pisanos, Sergeant Donowitz and Private Omar -"

"How do you know our names?"

The Colonel shuffled in his seat. "Lieutenant Aldo, if you don't think I wouldn't interrogate everyone of your Swastika-marked survivors, then we are not operating on the same level of mutual respect that I assumed." He looked genuinely offended.

"Wie fühlt es sich an, Landa?" Ella asked with a smirk. _(How does it feel, Landa?)_

"No, I guess not," Aldo replied mildly.

Landa blew him off. "Back to the whereabouts of your two Italian saboteurs...at this moment, both Omar and Donowitz should be sitting in the very seats we left them in, explosives still around their ankles ready to explode, and your mission, what some would call a terrorist plot, is still a go." He looked perfectly happy as relayed this information. Ella couldn't hide her mixed feelings. The mission was still on, but her Donny was still in it. She closed her eyes and held back a cry of frustration.

"What's that I see?" Landa mused, leaning in to get a closer look at her face. "I dare say we have a little internal conflict here. May I guess at a romance?" He paused, gauging Ella's reaction. She didn't give him much, but he could tell. She had to admit, he was good at his job.

"It seems we do. Now, if I had to say, it would not be Omar. No offense to him, but a beautiful young girl has her standards set a little higher, doesn't she? The rugged and handsome Donowitz it is, then. He's such brute, though, isn't he?" Landa said, sounding like a lady in a gossipy sewing circle. He smiled with satisfaction at Ella's furious look. "Anyways, if everything goes according to plan, he will be blown to bits soon enough."

"He's more than a man than you could ever be," Ella growled through gritted teeth.

"Sit back, El. That's a pretty excitin' story, Landa. What's next, Eliza on ice?" Aldo scoffed, taking Landa's attention off of Ella. She fumed in her chair, thinking of all the things she could do to Landa if her hands weren't tied.

"However, all I have to do it pick up this phone right here, inform the cinema, and your plan is ka-put," Landa said.

"If they're still there," Ella snapped. "And if they're still alive. Which is one big_ if_. There's no way you're taking those men without setting off those bombs."

"I have no doubt," Landa replied. "And yes, Germans will die, and yes, you will ruin the evening, and yes, Goebbels will be very, very mad at you for what you've done to his big night, but you won't get Hitler. You won't get Goebbels, you won't get Gerring, and you won't get Boormann. And you need all four to end the war."

Ella knew there was going to be a catch. There always was. Landa had come up with a brilliant plot to get himself out of this unscathed.

"But if I don't pick up this phone right here, you may very well get all four, and you would end the war tonight." He paused, letting this sink in. "So, gentlemen and lady, let's discuss this prospect." He laid out the glasses and uncorked the wine. The effect of him pouring them each a glass was not lost on Ella - their hands were still cuffed. Landa would be the only one drinking.

"The way I see it, since Hitler's death or possible rescue rests solely on my reaction, if I don't pick up that phone, it would be as if I'm causing his death even more than yourselves, wouldn't you agree?"

"I guess so," Aldo said.

"What about you, Corporal?" Landa said politely. "Utivich?"

"I suppose," Ella replied.

"If you want to win the war tonight," Landa said, placing the glasses in front of his prisoners. "We have to make a deal."

"I figured as much," Ella sighed.

Aldo sat back in his chair. "What kind of deal?"

"The kind you wouldn't have the authority to make. However, I'm sure this mission of yours has a commanding officer. A General. Perhaps OSS, I might guess."

The three of them sat silent, mostly surprised at how he had just nailed their operation. Landa smiled gleefully.

"Oooh, that's a bingo!" he giggled. He was smarter than Ella originally guessed, and also possibly a little more insane. "Is that the way you say it? That's a bingo?"

"You just say bingo," she grunted.

"Bingo! How fun!" Landa could tell he had the upper hand, and so could the Basterds. "But I digress. Where were we?" he said, regaining his composure. "Ah, yes. Make a deal. Over there is a very capable two way radio. And sitting behind it is a more than capable radio operator named Herrman. Get me somebody on the other end of that radio with the power of the pen, to authorize my - let's call it, the terms of my conditional surrender, if that tastes better going down."

"You know, where I'm from -" Aldo began.

"Yes, where is that exactly?" Landa asked, leaning forward.

"Maynardville, Tennessee. I done my share of bootlegging. Up there, if you engage in what the government calls illegal activity or what we call makin' a living for his family selling moonshine liqour…"

Ella snorted back laughter.

"It behoves oneself to keep his wits," Aldo said, shooting a glance at Ella. "Long story short, if we hear a story too good to be true...it ain't. Ain't that right, El?"

"Yessir, that's about right." Ella returned her gaze to the German Colonel.

"Sitting in your chair, I would just about say the same thing," Landa replied, nodding. "And 999,999 times out of a million you would be correct. But in the pages of history, once in a while, fate reached out and extends its hand."

"A beautiful statement, Colonel. Where did you read that?" Ella asked.

He ignored her. "What shall the history books read?"

A few minutes later, Aldo got on the radio and reached the General, and Landa laid down the terms of his 'surrender,' which included citizenship, property on Nantucket island, and the Congressional Medal of Honor for all members of Operation Kino.

"How fucking considerate," Ella grumbled from her position at the table. Their handcuffs had been undone and she had gulped the wine quickly. She turned to look at Utivich. "Once we get back on our lines, remind me never to go to Nantucket Island."

Utivich nodded his agreement.

A bark at the tavern's back door made Ella jump. She knew that bark. Shoving the German radio operator out of the way, she darted to the door before Landa and his officers could see. She flung the door open to see her pup, his tongue hanging out and his fur rumpled.

"Aw, Ace, come on boy. Come," she said, leading him slowly into the main room. His paws were sore, and it was easy to tell. Ella needed to take a look at them. She grabbed a bottle of clear alcohol from the bar and knelt next to the dog.

"Shee-it, he'd follow you anywhere, wouldn't he?" Aldo mused.

"That's my Ace," Ella said, distracted.

"What in the -" Landa started, and before he could even finish, one of his soldiers leveled a gun at the dog.

"You even think about killing Ace, it would be the exact same as killing one of my men, and you just struck a deal with our General. That, my friend, would not be wise," Ella snarled.

Landa rolled his eyes and told his soldier to stand down. Ella knelt next to Ace and began to tend to his torn-up paws.

**A/N: Just a few more left! I hope you liked the interaction between Ella and Landa - they seem like a match made in heaven, don'y they? haha! Reviews are greatly appreciated :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Last few chapters...I'll let you know when it's the last one, though. It's not quite done. But thank you to those of you who have read and reviewed, you keep me going! On to chapter 15!**

In the cinema, Donny and Omar sat with the dynamite around their ankles until it was time to head up to the washroom. They were lucky they left when they did, because had they gone three minutes later, they would have been trapped in the theater.

Up in the washroom on the second floor, Donny and Omar ditched their jackets and slipped on gloves that had small, one-shot pistols sewn in.

"Okay. Once I get that guy, you have 30 feet to get to that guard. Can you do it?" Donny asked.

"Of course I can. But, Donny?"

"Yeah?"

"You can take it or leave it, but I'm gonna give you the chance to get outta here. Get back to her."

Donny looked at him, a little shocked. "What?"

"I mean it. Once we take out the guards, you take off. You could start a life. I don't got nothin', so it's okay."

"You better be serious."

"I am. Now are we gonna go or what? I already set the time for this thing."

"Let's go." Donny handed his dynamite, which was also primed, and handed it to Omar. "Make sure you get that cocksucker. Shoot him in the face for me."

"Will do, Sergeant."

Once they shot down the guards, the sound of which was covered up by the gunfire of the movie, Omar saluted his Sergeant.

"Kiss her for me, Sarge."

"You fuckin' bet I will. Get 'em, Omar," Donny said, saluting him back. He took off down the stairs, blood dotting his white tuxedo vest, and ran headlong into the glass doors in the lobby. They didn't budge. For a moment, he was dumbfounded, but then he saw the bar that had been shoved through the handles on the other side.

"Shit," he mumbled, and wrapped the linen cloth he had used to hide the little pistol around his arm. He drove his elbow through the glass and fumbled through to the hallway. The second set of doors, providing they were barred too, were going to be much more difficult - they were solid oak, and if he was going to get out of there before that dynamite went off, he was going to have to work at it. Hard.

He started with kicking the doors, but they didn't budge. At that point, he heard a woman's voice coming from the theater, something about all of the Germans dying and a Jew being the one to do it. He smirked to himself - that woman who owned the theater was definitely not a fan of the Germans, and he knew it. It was in the way she looked at all the Nazis that were gathered in her cinema. Good for her, locking all of those bastards in there so they could blow it to smithereens. Or maybe she had her own plan, burn the place down or something. The problem was that she had locked him in there with them.

He started going at the door with his shoulder, and it started to budge. Maybe if he threw all of his weight at it…

The distinct smell of smoke hit his nostrils. So she was burning the cinema down. He had to get out, and fast. He counted maybe a minute left until the dynamite went off. Keeping the image of Ella's dark hazel eyes in his mind, he backed up and ran at the door, throwing his weight behind his shoulder and barreling into the double doors. They creaked, so that was a good sign. These were probably just deadbolted, not barred. He backed up and did it again. And again. On the fourth try, they splintered around the lock. One more time, he thought, and as he ran at the final set of doors the final time, the dynamite went off.

Donny was thrown into the street as he hit the wood, his back scorched and his ears ringing. The sheer force of the blast knocked him unconscious and sent him into the street, a few bones in his hands breaking as he landed on them. He skidded and rolled, the shoulder of his white shirt tearing and the knees of his dress pants ripping. It was there that he lay, waiting for someone to find him.

* * *

Ella, Utivich, and Aldo waited until the truck had come to a full stop before nodding to each other. They were officially past German lines. The truck opened up again, and the three Basterds jumped out. Landa and his radioman, Herrmann, gave them their weapons back and relinquished their own. Ella strapped on both the V-42 knife and Hugo's dagger, leaving her pistol in her hand. Aldo began to cuff Landa.

"I hardly think that's necessary -"

"I'm a slave to appearances. El?" Aldo said, not looking up from his work.

She shot Herrmann in the head. Colonel Landa almost jumped out of his cuffs.

"Are you mad?" he screeched. "I had a deal with your General for that man's life!"

"Yeah, they made that deal, but they don't give a fuck about him. They need you."

"You'll be shot for this!"

"More like chewed out," Ella said, wiping off the pistol and holstering it. "He's been chewed out before. So have I, as a matter of fact."

"We heard the deal you made with the brass. End the war tonight? I'd make that deal. What about you, Utivich? You make that deal?"

"I sure would, sir," Utivich said from over by Herrmann's corpse. He still owed Aldo a few scalps.

"Ella?"

"Me too. Damn good deal, I'd say."

"I don't blame ya. And that pretty little nest you feathered for yourself. Well, if you're willing to barbeque the whole high command, I suppose that's worth certain considerations." Ella handed him the dagger they lifted from Landa's own belt, and Aldo polished it up a little. "Now, I don't care about you gettin' pensions, merit badges, ticker tape parades, who gives a damn. Let's all go home. But I do have one question."

This was Ella's favorite part.

"When you get to your little place on Nantucket Island, I imagine you're gonna take off that handsome lookin' SS uniform of yours, ain't you?"

Landa's eyes grew wide. Ella stepped in front of him.

"Well, Colonel? You gonna frame it? Or burn it? Hang it in your New England closet and hide it forever?"

He didn't respond. For the first time in his life, he didn't have an answer. A slow, lazy smile crossed Ella's face.

"That's what I thought," Aldo said. "Now that, I can't abide. Can you abide it, Utivich?"

"Not one bit, sir," he replied.

"I mean, if I had my way, you'd be wearin' that uniform for the rest of your pecker suckin' life. But I'm aware that ain't practical. At some point, you're gonna have to take it off." He brandished the SS dagger in front of Landa's terrified face. "So we're gonna give you something you can't take off."

Ella stood by smoking a cigarette as Utivich held Landa down and Aldo gave him the mark. Landa's screams were wonderful to hear, but not nearly as wonderful as Donny's arms had been around her waist. She would have to go home never feeling that way again. No Congressional Medal of Honor pinned to her lapel or stripes on her jacket would make up for it. Her fingers touched the golden pendant that fell just above her cleavage and she sighed deeply. At the least, the war was over. They were going home. Some men were being sent to the Far East, to Japan, but the General had decided to send the Basterds home to receive their medals.

"Y'know, this one might just be my masterpiece," Aldo said, standing up. Ella went over to look.

"_Bravo, mon frére_. I agree." She bent down to the moaning Landa. "I thought you would be less...pathetic than that. Tut, tut."

* * *

Donny was out for a long time. For two weeks, he was comatose in a French hospital. He hadn't been wearing his tags - they were with Aldo, since they were going to be blasted to shit anyways. And he had never expected to live in the first place. They didn't know he was American until he woke up, long after Ella, Aldo, and Utivich had landed back in D.C. and even after he had received his posthumous Medal of Honor.

There were third-degree burns on his back, and he had two broken hands, a dislocated shoulder, and a small fracture in his shoulder blade. He would spend another two weeks in the French hospital with a translator because moving him would disrupt the healing of his back. By the time he returned to the United States a month after Operation Kino ended, skinnier than he had been but otherwise the same old Donny Donowitz, Ella was nowhere to be found.

* * *

The medal ceremony was boring, just as most military ceremonies were. Ella stood at attention in her dress uniform, her hair in neat curls, as President Truman draped the blue ribbon and bronze, gold-plated star around her neck and awarded her with the rank of Sergeant. Of course, after the awards for her, Aldo, Utivich, and the Swastika-marked Landa, there was a ceremony for Wicki, Hugo, Omar, and Donny for their posthumous awards. Ella blocked out all of the words, remembering the men by their campfire jokes and late-night stories rather than their military accomplishments and remaining family members. She would rather remember them as the men who had her back than plot numbers at Arlington National.

There was a banquet afterwards, and Ella stood with Aldo at the bar, watching everyone else socialize.

"You gonna go back to Maynardville?" Ella asked, a glass of champagne in her hand.

"Yeah, think so. Stay with my brother a while." Aldo, who had been newly anointed Captain, shrugged. "Pension's okay, but I like my moonshine."

"I know you do."

"What do you think? There's always a room where I am for you."

Ella shook her head. "I have to travel for a while. New York, at the least. Boston. Maybe even out West."

"Do what you gotta do. But you have to visit."

"At least every few months, Captain." She smiled and nudged him, motioning to all the officers in their dress uniforms with her glass. "Think they're ever gonna get used to me wearing these stripes and this medal?"

Aldo chuckled, raising his glass of champagne to his lips. "I don't think they ever will."


	16. Chapter 16

**1949**

Eventually, Ella settled with Ace in New York City. Boston was her first stop after the Medal of Honor ceremony, but it hurt just a little too much to stay there. New York was easier to blend in to. The military pension given to those who had been awarded the Medal of Honor was easy to live on, since Ella didn't need much, but she did publish regularly in the New Yorker. She began to write an ongoing set of essays called The Americana Series. Her first chapter was called "Americans in France" and was widely regarded as a treasured piece of American history. The second essay, titled "Shame," was a major bashing of the use of nuclear weapons against Japan and sparked debates all over the country. Utivich sent Ella a letter commending her on the essay, a risky move on his part since he was now working for the FBI. Aldo just called it 'making trouble.'

Ella made it a point to visit Maynardville every three months or so. Just over one year after their return from France, she attended Aldo's wedding to a little spitfire of a woman named Jeannie. Unsurprisingly, Ella and Jeannie got along quite well, especially when moonshine was involved. Less than a year later, Jeannie and Aldo had their first child - a girl named Mary Ella Raine. Ella Demski was ecstatic. The little girl had Jeannie's big blue eyes and a pout like her father.

In June 1949, Ella published her seventh of The Americana Series ( titled "Arlington") and headed to Maynardville to see the Raine family with Ace, which now included three-year old Mary and one-year old William Donald. On Ella's last day in Tennessee, she and Aldo sat on the porch while Jeannie napped with the children, sipping iced tea and Bourbon.

"You goin' to a game on your way back?" Aldo asked. Ella made it a habit that whenever she went back North, if it was baseball season, she went to a Boston Red Sox game at Fenway.

"Sure am. One of these days, you're gonna have to come with me."

He shook his head. "Ain't my thing."

"Wasn't mine, either." Ella swirled the spiked tea in the glass, watching the beads of sweat roll down onto her fingers. "It kind of is now, though."

"Yeah, I read that New Yorker. What was that one called?" Aldo reached down and patted Ace on the head absentmindedly. He had definitely warmed up to the dog since that night in the tavern with Landa. Ace had grown up to be a handsome, picturesque German Shepherd, and he kept his manners and went everywhere with Ella.

"America's Pastime. You better have read it. I send you one each time I publish."

"Don't worry, I got 'em all upstairs." He smiled at her. "El, I hope you're happy up there in New York."

"I try, Aldo. I really do. Nothing's gonna compare to France ever again, but I try my best. God, it was a fucked-up time, but that's where I was really, actually happy."

"I know it was. I would tell you to settle down with a man, but there ain't no one out there good enough for my El." Aldo's accent had gotten stronger since they had come home, and Ella loved hearing it.

"The chances of that are indeed slim," Ella laughed. "I should go make sure I have everything. Your brother will be here soon to bring me to Knoxville."

"Say goodbye to my woman before you leave, or she'll give me hell," Aldo said, standing up with Ella.

"Don't worry. She'll do that anyways!"

Aldo groaned.

* * *

Ella donned a black skirt and a white blouse with a red belt at her waist for the game, as well as the small gold pendant that she only ever took off for showers. Simplistic, yet showing a little fan pride for the Red Sox. One of the gentlemen who ran Fenway Park actually had a son in the F.S.S.F., and he always made sure Ella had the best seats he could get and that she could bring in Ace without a fuss. Usually she sat on the first-base line with a perfect view of the field. Once, she wore her military jacket to an early spring game, and Ted Williams himself came over and shook her hand, saying he'd read her piece in the Yorker and thought she was a brave woman. He had fought in the war himself, so coming from him, it was high praise.

On June 23rd, they were playing the St. Louis Browns. Ella didn't hear much about the Browns, but it would have been a good game either way. Ted Williams and Dom Dimaggio were playing, (two Red Sox players who would later be inducted into the Hall of Fame), and Ella loved the atmosphere at Fenway, even if the Sox didn't win. Ella settled in her aisle seat with Ace at her feet, his tail sweeping the dust from the stairs next to them. She slipped on a pair of sunglasses to fend off the setting sun.

By the end of the third inning, the Sox were ahead by 5. Ella loved the electric energy that surrounded her when the team was winning, and she shouted and jeered along with the best of them. Ace even threw in a few barks for good measure. It was when Stan Spence (oddly enough, also a Kentucky native) came up to bat and there was mostly quiet that Ace started to bark and tug on his leash to run up the stairs.

"Ace, relax, boy, it's okay." A confused Ella tried to pull him back to her chair.

'Need some help with that dog, missy?" said the man sitting behind Ella. "He looks to be a handful."

"He was more of a handful when we were fighting in France, thank you very much," Ella huffed. "Ace, what has gotten into you? Sit!"

The dog looked back at her, as if he was sorry that he was disobeying, but that this was too important.

"Lady," the man behind her started.

"I didn't ask you anything, bub," Ella snapped, standing up to face the man. "An Army Sergeant can control her dog. He's just being a pest about something." He looked back at her in shock, his eyes wide.

Ella relinquished, stepping out into the aisle. "Okay, okay. But only because you're disturbing this nice gentleman," she said to Ace, throwing in some southern drawl for good measure. That's when she looked up the stairs and saw what Ace was barking at.

Both of them had frozen. Neither could actually believe what they were seeing. Ella was a mystery, disappearing into the corners of the country and as far as Ella knew...well, Donny was supposed to be dead.

Ella dropped the leash and Ace ran up to Donny, jumping up on him and trying his damndest to lick his face. After a second Donny leaned down and acknowledged the dog, but his eyes never left Ella's.

She slowly removed her sunglasses, her jaw agape, trying to think if she'd had any whiskey earlier. Making sure it wasn't just her brain trying to place him there, making someone who looked like him be the man she had been missing with her entire being for five and a half years. Just the sight of him - almost exactly the same, except instead of the boots with woollen socks and the heavy leather jacket, he was wearing a crisp white button-up with suspenders and grey trousers - made her breath catch in her chest. She had never in her life been at such a loss for words.

Donny took a few steps down towards her.

"Hey, doll, I've been looking everywhere for you."

That broke her. She rushed up the stairs, almost stumbling on the way. She practically fell into his arms.

"I got you, doll," he murmured into her ear. His strong arms lifted her into the air, one hand around her waist, the other under her rear. She buried her face in his shoulder, her hands gripping his strong back, and inhaled deeply, letting his musk fill her senses. She was well aware that everyone around them was staring now, but it didn't matter. They even ignored the one wolf-whistle from the stands off to her left. "I got you, El. After lookin' for five years, I found you."

"Oh God, Donny, I never knew. I thought...I thought you were gone forever. If I had known..."

"I know." He slowly set her down, his hands low around her waist. The woman he had been waiting so long to see was finally in his arms, and he had no clue what to say. "I missed you, El."

She laughed. "Still my Donny. I missed you too, Sarge." Her arms around his neck, she pulled him down to kiss her, one hand drifting to the familiar stubble on his cheek. More whistles and catcalls surrounded them, as well as cheers when Stan Spence struck out and the Sox headed out to the field.

"You remember that deal we made?" she asked softly, her fingers toying with the gold pendant. Donny looked to where her hand went, and everything he had hoped for came true.

"Course I do."

"I don't want to wait until we're old."

"Ella, if I could have married you the minute the war was over, I would have. You're all I've thought about since I landed back in the States. I dreamt about you. I read your essays, and I even called the New Yorker, but they wouldn't give me an address. I fully intend to get you a ring, Ella Demski."

She bit her lip, her heart pounding out of her chest. Words she never thought she'd hear, coming from a man she never thought she'd see again. "Pinch me, Donny. I think I'm dreaming."

"You're wide awake, doll."

* * *

**The Americana Series**

**Part 8 - The War is Over**

**December 8, 1949**

_After all the things that I've come across in my life, I can still be struck speechless. No language conveys the feeling you get when the last thing you ever expected stumbles into your path - especially when that thing (or person, as it were) was all you ever wanted. I never thought I'd see him again. You may say that the great Sergeant Demski is going soft, but the man snoring lightly in my bed right now is one of very few that I trust with my life, on and off the battlefield._

_I've written a great deal about my time in the military, as condensed as it was. I have dwelled upon it since I returned from France in May of 1944. The Red Sox and the Yankees took over for my Allies and Axis, my pen for my gun, and the two men remaining from my unit continued to be my brothers. America itself has certainly moved on - its sights are set on the USSR, and the paranoia called the Red Scare runs rampant, but I myself am finally starting to see what normalcy looks like. I will never unsee what happened in France and Italy, and my blade may shine dormantly on my mantle, but it will always carry the blood of hundreds. That will never change. But the sudden reappearance of the man I gave my whole self to and lost to the war has given me a new view of things._

_My commanding officer and would-be brother in Tennessee has a wife and two children. When I told Donny that the boy was named after him, he sat in awed silence for a few minutes. Anyone who knows a Bostonian knows this is a feat. He then stood and told me that we should have one and name it after our CO. I told him that I would never in my life name a child Aldo, but on the inside, the thought of even having a child had never crossed my mind - never mind what to name it. It's true, Donny and I are engaged - next summer, probably in Boston proper (and yes, we are inviting Captain Teddy Williams). The company that Donny builds houses for is going to set us up with a new place for a very good price just outside the city. But I hadn't even thought of children. Maybe it will happen. Who knows? With the way things have been going, not much would surprise me anymore. I'll be celebrating my first Hanukkah with my future in-laws in a week. I can hardly remember actually celebrating Christmas when I was a child, and I haven't much since. It will be...an adventure, to say the least. In a good way, of course - Donny's family is wonderful, and though it's been a long time since I've had any family besides my unit, they've quickly become the parents I lost when I was young._

_The moral of the story is, things change. Sometimes for the better. Once you think you've settled into your life, fate decides you need something new. Or old, as it were. The war is over, you know. I think I just realized that. Believe me, I'm one of the last to know. Our CO, Aldo, realized that a long time ago, maybe when he first saw his brother after we got back on U.S. soil. But now that I do know, I can move forward. Don't dwell on the past, because the future holds so much more._

_First Sergeant Ella Demski_

**U.S. Army First Sergeant Ella Demski has published seven previous pieces in the New Yorker: Americans in France, Shame, Poker, America's Pastime, Steel, A Woman's Best Friend, and Arlington.**

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much to my readers! After a few years off of fanfiction writing, I can say I came back at it hard - mostly because I have started many a story, and only ever finished this one. Maybe I'll write something else about Ella soon - I like her too much to just give her 16 chapters. Anyways, this is it - The Wolves in France is now a complete story. You guys are the best, and maybe I'll come back with something else soon enough ;) If you have ideas, message me! Thanks!**


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